the purple quilt

My great grandmother was a beautiful quilter – it was her gift.  Well, other than whooping our butts at cards and rolling dice anyways.  Grandma loved cooking for all of us, spending a day just chatting about life and telling us stories about her and Grandpa, and she loved making us all quilts.  Every time we would come over she would show us what she was working on or ask what color scheme we would like for our next quilt, I have 3 or 4 from her in my closet and each quilt is a gift I will treasure forever.  She loved making a special quilt for each of us but she loved making those baby quilts for her great, great grandchildren even more.  That joy she felt to make her first great, great grandbaby a quilt – a boy from my older sister who was told she wouldn’t have children.  Then came another quilt for a little boy from my cousin and then came the need for a pink quilt for Layla (Grandma had a mild obsession with the color pink).  She soon rolled out two more boy quilts and then a special red quilt for my adopted niece from Vietnam.  And then I got pregnant with Zoey and by the time we found out she was a girl and although Grandma was excited to make another quilt she just didn’t feel well enough.  She didn’t have the energy no matter how much she wanted to.  I will forever be thankful that Grandma got to meet Zoey before she passed; she got to hold that tiny, quiet, snuggly little baby and savor all that goodness that only a fresh little one can provide.  Zoey is the only one in this family without a quilt from her great, great grandmother and that has always made me a little sad.  Until this past weekend that is.  Zoey had a little too much sugar and too much jumping around Saturday which resulted in several blanket changes, the final one being the first quilt Grandma ever made me – a purple beauty with lavender and green flowers sprinkled all over.  That purple blanket brought Zoey out of her funk.  You see, purple is her favorite color.  She loves it and wants everything to be purple.  Watching her gently stroke the quilt and ooh and aah over the color and pattern brought a smile to my face.  The very next day, when Zoey was back to 100%, I sat Zoey down and gave her the blanket.  It’s now hers to keep.  I know she’s still too young to fully understand but the look on her face was priceless and she seemed to somewhat comprehend how special it is.  Zoey now has her very own quilt made by her great, great grandma, the very first quilt that Grandma made and gave to me.