grandma's quilt

I have had a hard time blogging because I can't add any pictures at the moment.
I've filled my hard drive right up.
I don't how...I mean, I hardly ever take any pictures.
(That was sarcasm.)

But here is a picture from the beginning of the month as my kids were snuggled up watching some great messages about Christmas.


Not a fantastic picture, but I love it because it shows the quilt we were all four keeping cozy with.
This quilt has recently become a treasured thing in our home.
I love it.
We brought it home from our Thanksgiving travels and it hasn't really been put away since, because someone always wants to use it.


It is amazingly warm and cozy in all it's polyester wonder.

In my last post I mentioned a visit we made to my grandma's house.
While we were there, she asked me to pick out which furniture or other things around her house that I would want after she died.
She wanted us to take little pieces of scotch tape, write our names on them, and attach them to the back or bottom of things we wanted to lay claim to.
I just couldn't bring myself to do it.
I know she is getting old.
It happens.
And I know she loves me.
But, of course, I don't care about getting anything.

I'm sure most people would feel the same way.
So I kept changing the subject, and she kept persisting to ask me if I decided what I wanted.

The only thing that would matter to me would be something that would remind me of her.
But I didn't know what that would be.
Except the bust of the fine lady with the huge head covered with fake fruit.
She has always had that in her entryway since before I was born.
But what could I do with a head of fruit?

Later, as we were leaving to take grandma out to lunch, Chris went to lock up the garage and put away the tools he had been using.
As I went in the garage I spotted a glimpse of color in a pile of junk.

I didn't even hesitate as I told grandma that I knew exactly what I would want someday...her polyester quilt!
She was dumbfounded.
She couldn't imagine why I wanted that and told me I better just take it now because it was out there with all the junk.

So I did.

Chris put it in the car for me and I didn't say much about it.
I came home and washed it and have watched as each member of my family has decided that it is their favorite blanket on earth.


I'm not sure what it is about this quilt.

Definitely the warmth.

And, for me, the memories.

When I was growing up, we rarely traveled.
But when we went to grandma's house a few hours away, it was very, very exciting.
And it seems like in my mind, that we always got there at bedtime.
And I was always anticipating my favorite place to sleep.
Often, I got the bed in the den.
I loved it.
Hard to believe now...since it was a hide-a-bed.
Wow.
But the hard couch cushions always fit just perfectly into the right spots and I would feel cradled against the armrest of the couch as I slept so peacefully.
Always under that colorful quilt.
Grandma always kept it in the exact same spot on the top shelf of her linen closet at the end of the hall.
And I'm not sure why, but sometimes I just liked to peek in there at it.
When we arrived I would wait to make sure I saw her get it down and I would be so content once I was snuggled under it.

Even that one night in 2nd or 3rd (?) grade when we rushed to grandma's house in the middle of the night.
We were so confused why we were being carried to the car in the middle of the night.
Mom and dad told us to go back to sleep.
I had never seen grandma look like that before.
She was distraught.
But she still got the blanket out of the closet for me.
That was the night my grandpa died.

Why is the blanket the thing I remember?