33. Memory quilts

New ideas in curved piecing, ever-increasing numbers of students, and travels throughout New England doing "trunk" shows and workshops for quilt guilds: these were exciting times for the artist in me. And yet just at this time, my commission work gradually began to shift away from art in the usual sense. The change began when one day a woman called, asking if I could make her a quilt from the shirts, ties, and pants of a husband who had died quite suddenly. The quilt would be used by the infant he had left behind. I don't have a picture of this quilt, and while I can't recall its details, I do remember listening very carefully as she told me what she wanted. I made a traditional quilt of squares, a quiet quilt of subtle colors. I remember a powerful feeling of having to get this right. I remember that it packed an emotional wallop for the woman who commissioned it. I remember wondering whether I would want to be reminded so poignantly of someone who was missing.

Then, I got another call. This time it was about a father's neckties and a daughter who wanted very much to be reminded. A few months later, a wife commissioned memory quilts for herself and her grown children. And little by little, I found myself not only commemorating graduations and special birthdays by making t-shirt quilts, but meeting with people who, having lost loved ones, were faced with clothing that was too difficult to part with and yet had to be dealt with somehow. While explaining to me what they wanted to keep from these piles of lived-in fabrics, they were also giving voice to their grief as they told stories of the person who had lived in them. All of these quilts ultimately spoke volumes to their owners; all told stories with neckties or sweatshirts, denim or polyester doubleknits. Gradually I have realized what a privilege it is to help tell these stories, each one unique and precious beyond any visual or tactile measure.

Now I have come to appreciate the full impact of the lesson learned from "Bobby's" quilt (see blog entry #17), because I must truly listen for the details when telling a story that is not mine. Word of mouth continues to bring such work my way, and I celebrate the fact that my quilting life has given me a calling as well as a career.