The Goodbye Quilt

“Watch the needle, babe,” Grandma reminded.  “You’re getting close to pricking yourself, and the last thing I need is a bleeding grandbaby.”  She smiled at me, and pulled my head towards her so she could kiss my forehead.  Grandma then went back to work, putting all of her heart into every delicate stitch.  We had been working on this quilt every Saturday for the past two years, putting more work in every Wednesday during the summer.  Now it was getting huge, enough to cover any king’s bed, and we only had about 12 patches left to sew in.
Granddaddy was in the front room, teaching my brother how to play guitar.  My granddaddy was the king of blues, and Jon was catching up.  However, I doubted that anyone could catch up with Granddaddy.  But I guess Jon thought the same about me sewing with Grandma.  She had made our clothes back when we were little, before Mama could afford anything from a store, and we still had the nicest-looking clothes in school.  That’s why I’m learning from Grandma.  She’s the best seamstress in the world.
“Grandma?” I asked, placing my needle on my lap.          
“Yeah, baby?” She replied.  She was keeping her head down to her work and stitching nervously.
“What are we gonna do with this quilt once we finish?”
“Well, it’s a big thing for me to tell you.”
“I can listen.  I’m almost seven, and Mrs. James says I’m the best listener in class.”
Grandma laughed and sighed in defeat. “In that case, I should probably tell you shouldn’t I?  Alright, well I want you to keep this quilt for the rest of your life.  I want you to take care of it, and I want you to give it to your grandbabies.  This way you’ll remember how much I love you.  Do you know how much I love you?”
“Nope!” I giggled.
Grandma put on the most admonishing face she could, trying to hide her smile.  “Sarah, how could you not know that? I’m sure I’ve told you several times.”  She sighed and pulled the quilt down to the floor gently, making sure that none of the seams would come undone.  “I guess I’ll have to tell you again.”  Getting ready to make her move, she said, “I love you this much!”  Then she pounced on me with as much force as an eighty-year-old woman could make, tickling me and covering me with kisses.  I giggled madly; this was the most fun I had ever had.
But our fun was cut short.  She erupted into a horrible coughing spell, sitting back in her chair and doubling over.  This was the worst I had ever seen Grandma.  The healthiest woman in town, Grandma visited the doctor regularly.  Never, did she ever, cough like this.  To tell you the truth, I had never seen anyone cough like that.
When she was finished, I did all that a six-year-old could do. “Are you okay, Grandma?”
“Yes,” se replied, picking the quilt back up.  “I keep on forgetting I’m not supposed to be doing these things anymore.  These bones are old, babe.  You gotta remember that.”
I smiled, convinced that everything was alright, and continued stitching.  The next thing I heard was a loud call from the front room.
“Sarah!” my brother screeched, yelling louder than necessary. “Mom’s here!”
“Bye, Grandma,” I sighed.  I kissed her on the cheek and pranced off to the front room.
Grandma didn’t tell anyone she had cancer.  She was in the hospital the next Saturday, so we didn’t get to work on the quilt together.  In the next week she died.  Her last words were,  “Tell Sarah and Jon how much I love them.”  There was a box left in her room, labeled “The Goodbye Quilt.”  In the box was our quilt, finished perfectly.
Granddaddy handled her death pretty well at first.  The first two weeks it was almost as if nothing was wrong.  But after that, he sentenced himself to his room, spending all day in his bed.  He would only open the door for family, and after a while everyone stopped visiting because it was so sad to see someone like Granddaddy so depressed.  Mama finally decided to send Jon and me over to see him, because we were the only grandchildren, and we proved to be the light in his life.
When we entered Granddaddy’s room, he smiled at the guitar in Jon’s hand. Jon smiled back and said, “I thought maybe we could have a lesson.  We haven’t had one in a while.”
Granddaddy replied, “Of course, Jon.  That would be great.”
I walked over to Granddaddy’s bed.  I had brought the Goodbye Quilt with me, and I draped it evenly across Granddaddy’s bed.  He smiled radiantly and pulled me on the bed.  Jon jumped in next to us and started plucking a simple song on this guitar.  Tears slowly started to envelop Granddaddy’s bright eyes, and he smiled even more.  Pulling us close he said, “I think we’re going to make it through this.”  And we did.