Yesterday we celebrated Grandparents’ Day. The first Sunday after Labor Day has been dedicated to those older citizens that are our lineage to the past, the reason we are here and a day set aside to honor those very special people who share and enrich our lives with their wit and wisdom.
Today I remember my Grandma on my mother's side, Henrietta, or Retta as her friends called her. As long as I knew Grandma Worley, she was a single lady. But that didn't mean her life was empty. She was always working on something crafty. Her home was filled with an explosion of crocheted doilies and afghans, ranging from those small table top doilies made with the thinnest thread using the tiniest hooks to the larger "granny square" throws that graced just about every arm of every chair in her house.
I always remember Grandma having twin beds in each bedroom of her house, which seemed odd to me because even I, a small girl, had a double bed at home. On those twin beds were the most lovely handmade, hand-stitched quilts. None of those machine quilted comforters for her, no sir, but rather the kind that are made with love over the span of months laboriously bent over a quilting loom that took up a good deal of space in her living room.
As I grew older, I learned to recognize the treasures that these quilts are. They were not only pieces of art created with love from my grandmother's hands, but they hold precious memories of a woman who left a lasting impression on me in so many ways.
As a young woman, my Grandmother gave me several quilts. Each of my children were presented with their own baby quilt that I will one day give to them. While the embroidered square are similar on both, one is heavier weight for my daughter who was born in winter, and the light weight one for my son, who was born in summer. Grandma was thoughtful in her crafting as well as talented.
Grandma's quilts are much more than fabric, batting and stitches. They are like loving hugs from arms that are no longer here for me to feel. Even now, when I'm feeling sick, or even a bit blue, there is nothing quite like a few hours spent wrapped in the loving warmth of one of Grandma's quilt.
I no longer have Grandparents to share this special day, but Retta knew that long after she was gone, her quilts would remind me of the love that went into making them. Thanks Grandma. I honor you today, and everyday, by spending a little time with that hug you left behind.
Even if your Grandparents are no longer around, take a few minutes today to remember their legacy and what effect their presence had on you.
Have a wonderful Monday.