Last summer my family celebrated my Granddad's 80th birthday and this past weekend we celebrated my Grandmom's 80th.
I love my grandparents. I know everyone says that; but I really mean it. They are both phenomenal people.
I was the only grandchild on my dad's side of the family for 10 years. Until my grandparents moved in 2001, we lived only a few miles away. Just about every weekend until I hit high school and thought I had better things to do, we went to my grandparent's house.
Even though the house was torn down, it will always be preserved in my mind. In some ways I am glad I don't have a ton of pictures of the house. Pictures have a bad habit of replacing memories.
I can remember Grandmom's wig from her battle with breast cancer. I remember her painting the dobermans toenails red. I remember riding on the tractor with her. I remember her painting the garage desert pink with cacti on the walls. I remember her giving the dogs baths in the pool and locking them in the bath house until they dried. I remember shoveling cow patties with her. I remember her watering the hanging plants that lined the side of the house. I remember going walkies with her and all the doggies. I remember her singing off key praises to Jesus.
She is older now, and not quite as strong as she used to be; and sometimes she forgets things. Arthritis is bending her fingers and she watches Judge Judy more than she used to.
But the influence has been made. Creativity and a love for the outdoors has been impressed upon me.
Grandmom with my dad, at the beach, 1955
When I first saw this line of fabric, I immediately thought of my grandmom. The bluebonnets and wildflowers had her name written all over them. This quilt is by far my fastest quilt finish ever. I used the time I spent making it as an opportunity to pray for her and for my family. I pray before my grandparents die, that they will without a doubt know that all five of their children will be in heaven with them singing gloriously on-key praises at the throne of Jesus.