Friday, December 19, 2008

DECEMBER TWENTIETH

I am in a nostalgic mood this Advent.
Perhaps am I also somewhat sentimental, generally speaking.
I know for sure it's the good times giving us strength to cope with the bad times. They always will come, one way or another.

This bedspread also has a Christmas story.
It dates from the early seventies. Money were tighter and recycling and patchwork were in fact in. I the summer I'd been in my Mom's attic looking for some fabric. I found some- and then left for school.
Coming home for Christmas vacation I noticed my Dad had band aids on his right thumb, long and forefinger. I asked but did not get any reasonable answer.
Soon other topics occupied my interests.


Christmas Eve, time to open gifts. I got this parcel containing this bedspread. My Mom's and My Dad's eyes hung expectantly on me, as if to embraces my joy.
I was happy, of course I was. Then they both told the story about how my Dad had used scissors to cut 560 hexagons of thick cartoon. My Mom had cut the fabric equally, nettle and taped the hexagons to the cartoon and sewed them together by hand with tiny little stitches.
This was the first and last time my Dad participated in needlework.
They both were proud of their wounds from the patchwork craft, like warriors.
Needless to say I cherish that bedspread till this day.

9 comments:

Amrita said...

Oh my soul Felisol, what can i say.

Your parents are one of a kind. Such a labour of love and you have preserved it so nicely.

My Internet is giving me trouble, I am sort of managing. its caught a cold it seems.

Mrs. Mac said...

A very colorful quilt stitched with lots of love. It must be quite special to sleep beneath this blanket knowing your dear parents hand stitched it for you.

Hugs,

Felisol said...

Dear Amrita,
I do hope your PC hasn't got anything seriously.

My parents sure were special. Never afraid of putting down work in anything, never afraid of giving of themselves.
I sure was spoiled, but I hope as an adult I was able to give something back.

Dear Mrs. Mac,
I feel privileged having received this much "that money cannot buy".

I actually don't sleep beneath it.
We Northerners all use feather-beds. Even add a thick whole- wool carpet now in wintertime.
I think I'd want one if I lived where you live as well.
When Norwegians are out traveling, this is a main problem; thin carpets and a sheet added. We all need something soft, warm and cozy..

From Felisol

maryt/theteach said...

Thanks for sharing that story Felisol! It's such a wonderful gift from loving parents! :)

Trish said...

I love quilts! What beautiful memories color that quilt...priceless!!!

Felisol said...

Hi,teach Mary,
Yes, some of the special by this gift was that they had been working together. For me!
My parents often took up projects together even though my father worked double at the office and my mom was of the housewife generation.
They could wallpaper a room, shovel turn a garden or walk miles in the mountains for blueberries.
This quilt they made for me. They were proud, I am even prouder today.

Dear Trish,
you are right. Like most things worth having my quilt is priceless.

From Felisol

Saija said...

what a gift! and the story that went with it ... you were blessed with wonderful parents ... so much love ...

blessings on you!

Felisol said...

Dear Saija,
Blessings on you too, my friend.
From Felisol

Raven said...

What a precious treasure... and the kind of thing that we appreciate more as the years pass and we get older and wiser. And of course it carries all the love that went into every stitch.

What a treasure of love it is to visit your blog.