Body and Soul

The quilt I snuggle beneath on cold and rainy days wraps me in the love and wisdom of decades of maternal warmth, stitched together with memory. It’s a simple cover, wrought of plain multi-color squares of fabric salvaged from countless sewing projects, no elaborate patterns or fancy needlework. The pink floral my mother wore for family photos in 1969, when my brother and I were tiny towheads with mischief twinkling in our eyes. The orange and white window-pane polyester earned my teen-age self a helping of my father’s rare discipline; you see, I insisted on wearing it adjusted to fit into the age of the mini skirt. The delicate aqua with rosebuds clothed four generations of women at a family gathering by the river, dresses crafted by my great-grandmother on a treadle machine.

Each square tells a different story, wakes a different memory, nurtures a smile or brings a tear… and warms me from the inside out… body and soul.