my grandmother was almost 98 when she died. and there is a flowering bush that grows at the back of our yard, that always makes me think of the last summer that she was alive. and one particular day is strong with memories of my last real day with my grandmother. just the two of us having the sort of breezy and ephemeral moments we did best. i lived with her all my life practically. i was 7 when she moved to canada to live with us. there was no mystery between us. she was always tiny, but in the last few years of her life, she was practically fetal. she weighed between 50 and 60 pounds and osteoporosis had bent her in half. my parents brought her to spend the afternoon with me that day. she sat in her wheelchair on the porch. i wheeled her out in the garden under the trees with flowers and birds surrounding her. i covered her hat with peonies and she laughed and just enjoyed the perfection of a summer day. she spent hours going through the bunches of flowers i brought her, picking out all the blossoms that were past their prime. we watched the cats play in the sun. gala romped around the yard and delighted her. we just spend the afternoon together. and after a lifetime with her, this is one of my strongest and sweetest and dearest memories of us alone together. just an afternoon enjoying each other.
i feel like quilts are alive. they reflect all the little joys that make life special. they emanate love and warmth. the quilts i make blend a grandmother's ideals with a fresh youthful flair. there is a nostalgia for seasons past combined with hopefulness for a bright full future. you can find me online at www.chasinglightningbugs.com