Memory Quilts


I’m getting ready for a week away from home. I’d love to say “vacation,” but much of it is being spent ferrying my son from his job in upstate New York to his college orientation farther upstate New York, waiting two days, and then bringing him back. I realize that this drive could be avoided if he had (1) his own car or (2) a chauffeur in our house that didn’t answer to the name “mom” or “dad.” Regardless, I am not complaining. It’s been a month since I’ve seen him and I am overjoyed for any opportunity to visit, even if it is just for a few hours in the car together.

In the process of cleaning up his room, I found this quilt. It was made for him by my mother, an avid quilter, and shows pictures of my son fishing with his father and grandfather. It brought tears to my eyes seeing pictures of my pudgy little son — now a slim, 6’2″ college freshman — as a preschooler and first grader, thrilled to be catching fish in a river near his grandparent’s house.

The feelings of being an empty nester have hit me hard over the last few days. This has surprised me, since my daughter will be home for another few years. But my son is our resident extrovert, and our house is quiet without his presence and the constant chiming of his phone. I’m starting to really understand a mother’s need for tangible memories of her kids’ childhoods. Quilts are something you can hold onto and, I’m finding, also cry into.

I know that this memory quilt was meant for my son. Now, however, I think it’s for me. Thanks, mom!

Note: My blog will continue on July 16, when I get back from upstate New York. I plan to visit at least five quilt stores along the way, as well as attend the Ricky Tims quilt seminar in Rochester.

(If you cannot see this photos, please see my blog at


Closeup of quilt — you can see where mom hand-quilted fish around the attic windows.

Memory Quilt — pictures of my son, ages, 4 to 6, fishing with his father and grandfather


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