The Goodbye Quilt (13 page)

The shop called Pins & Needles looks the way it always has, since its founding decades ago. Its brick and concrete façade glows in the evening light, the windows framed with swaths of fabric. The holidays are past and winter has settled in. The air is sweet and dry with the peculiar clarity that the winter cold brings. The shop is open late tonight, but there is no business to be done.

In the window is a hand-lettered sign: “Retirement Party. Come celebrate with us.”

Standing behind the counter, I feel as if I’m glowing, too, with a sense of happiness and fulfillment. All around me are my customers, the women who frequent the shop, talking together and sharing
all the events of their lives. They’ve brought platters of cookies and a crystal bowl filled with punch. Minerva, now in a wheelchair, beams at me. “It’s a good time to move on, eh?”

“I can’t believe it’s been twenty-five years,” says my best friend, Erin, as she gives me a hug. “Happy retirement, Linda.”

I can’t believe it either, sometimes. All those years ago, when I struggled with myself after taking Molly to college, the answer was staring me in the face. I didn’t need a bag full of gorgeous new clothes to find my new life. They did more good giving someone else a fresh start; donating the brand-new things to the women’s shelter was the right thing to do. Dan loves me as I am. The women at Pins & Needles do, too. I just needed to be the person I’ve always been—a wife, a friend and neighbor, a needleworker, a dabbler.

The proof is here before me now, a warmhearted shop filled with women I’ve come to know like sisters through the years. Minerva, who celebrated her ninetieth last year, has been my mentor. As the festivities go on, Molly and her husband arrive, their three kids in tow, and suddenly my arms are filled with grandchildren. The sweetness of this moment
makes my heart expand with joy. Dan comes over, laughing about being outnumbered by females. He’s as strong and handsome as the day I met him nearly fifty years ago, wearing his age like a fine patina. He raises a cup of punch to me. “I knew you could do it, but now I can’t wait to have you all to my self.” Still a man of few words, he retreats with our son-in-law to forage for snacks and to escape the chattering women.

After Molly left for college, I missed her terribly, but my life took a new turn and opened up in new ways. I found a dream of my own and went for it. Running the quilt shop didn’t make me a rich woman, not in the financial sense. But it enriched my life beyond measure, and I can see that so clearly now, looking around at the faces of my family and friends, customers and well-wishers. The big changes can’t be seen, only felt.

Molly gives me a hug and steps back, her eyes shining. “Happy retirement, Mom. I’m really proud of you.”

Her words light me up like sunshine, as they always have. We turn together to the display wall behind the counter, regarding the quilt, the one I
was making for Molly so long ago. She had it right all along—it
was
my story, and it wasn’t finished.

Family. History. Love and loss. I’ve touched every inch of this fabric. It’s absorbed my scent and the invisible oils of my skin, the smell of our household, the occasional drop of blood, and sometimes my tears. I’ve added to the piece through the years; it’s an ever-expanding record of our days as a family. There’s a swatch from Molly’s graduation gown, and a ribbon from the table decorations on her wedding day. There’s a piece from her husband’s desert fatigues, and little precious bits from my grandchildren. A tiny silver bell marks our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. I’m already wondering what little symbol will commemorate our golden anniversary. I try not to plan ahead. Why rob life of its surprises?

I plan to take the quilt home with me tonight, and no doubt more keepsakes will make their way into the design. Life has taught me not to be afraid of starting something new.

How do you say goodbye to a piece of your heart? You don’t ever have to. There’s always a way to keep the things we hold most dear.

I’m very fortunate to have a publisher that allows me to put my heart on paper. Many thanks to my editor and great friend, Margaret O’Neill Marbury, and to everyone at MIRA Books. As always, I’m indebted to Meg Ruley, Annelise Robey and their associates at the Jane Rotrosen Agency—your wisdom, patience and friendship mean the world to me.

To my fellow writers—Anjali Banerjee, Kate Breslin, Carol Cassella, Sheila Roberts and Suzanne Selfors—thank you so much for reading multiple drafts and helping me pull this patchwork of emotion together.

I’m grateful to master quilter Marybeth O’Halloran for the insights and expertise into her colorful world—any liberties and errors in the text are my own. A very special thank-you to my dear friend, Joan Vassiliadis, for creating the original Goodbye Quilt and for sharing her talent in the pages of this book.

by Joan Vassiliadis
www.joanofcards.blogspot.com

Finished size is approximately 45" x 56"
Instructions based on 42" wide fabric
All seams are ¼"

Fabric Requirements

Collect 100% cotton fabric scraps that have special meaning to you. Don’t be afraid to cut into old things. You will be able to enjoy them much more in a quilt that will be seen and touched every day. Make sure your scraps are at least 7" wide and total approximately 2½ yards. Inner border: ½ yard solid color to frame the string bars. Outer border: 5/8 yard. Backing: 3¼ yards. Binding: ½ yard.

Cutting Instructions

Cut approximately 220 strings all 7" in length—cut uneven widths ranging between 1" and 3". Inner solid border: cut 4 strips crosswise (from selvage to selvage) 2½" wide. Outer border: Cut 4 strips crosswise 4" wide. Binding: Cut 2½" strips to total the perimeter of your finished quilt.

Sewing Instructions

Play music while you work, sing along and remember why each piece of fabric is special to you. Begin constructing the bars first into pairs and then into fours and so on. Put dark colors next to light if possible, but don’t worry too much about it if you have more darks than lights or vice versa. Do be careful
to pin and press. Whenever possible, press towards the dark fabric. Construct six bars at least 44" long. Your edges will be uneven so trim each bar to 6" wide (see Figure 2). Sew all six bars together and press. Trim the ends so they are all even and you’re ready for borders.

For the inner border, measure your quilt lengthwise first, and construct two strips 2½" wide to this length Sew to the sides of the quilt and press. Next, measure the width of your quilt. Construct two strips 2½" wide to this measurement. Sew to the top and bottom of the quilt and press. Now for the outer border: Measure the sides of your quilt and construct two strips 4" wide to this length. Next, measure the width of your quilt. Construct two strips 4" side to this measurement. Sew to the top and bottom of the quilt and press. Your top is now complete! Think about all of the memories sewn into this quilt…remember the sweetest moments of life.

Finishing the Quilt

Linda finished her quilt on the drive with Molly. You can finish yours in the car, in a comfy chair, with your quilting friends at the dining-room table…any way and anywhere you please! If tying your quilt you can embellish with more memories: buttons, ribbons, badges. Do think about how often your quilt will be washed and how your embellishments will endure. If you make your quilt an art piece, then you can incorporate almost anything. After quilting, measure the perimeter and sew binding strips together to total this measurement. Attach binding.