Thoughtful, Useful Gifts for Those Needing a Helping Hand
Comfort Quilts From the Heart was born from my pain in the wake of a great family tragedy. In December 2002, my 18-year-old cousin was diagnosed with a rare and advanced form of pediatric cancer. Aubrey and I were very close, and the suddenness and severity of her illness devastated my family and me.
In my fear and grief, the only action I could take, was to make a quilt. I wanted something to cheer and inspire Aubrey as she walked her long road of surgery, radiation, and chemotherapy. The quilt had to be bright and happy, but rich and fun to look at. The quilt had to be sized for her new locales—hospital beds and wheelchairs. I wanted it to be warm, and it needed to be finished in two days.
I scoured my quilt books for a simple pattern to fit my needs. Nothing was right. I had already picked my two fabrics—a fuchsia batik and a violet batik, to use in the quilt. So, I quickly drafted a pattern based on a rail fence block, and set to work.
For two days I worked nonstop to finish Aubrey's quilt. On the plane up to Sacramento, I tacked the binding. Before we went to the hospital to see Aubrey, I stitched her label to the back, which I had handwritten on a piece of white fabric. And it was done.
Creating that quilt was cathartic for me. And it must have been for someone else. A couple of days after we left Sacramento, Aubrey was on her way down to surgery, and she brought her quilt. After the surgery, the quilt disappeared.
When my family called to tell me about the quilt's loss, I was not upset. I still had some of the fabric left, so I told them not to worry, that when I came to see Aubrey in a couple of weeks, I would bring another. This time it would be better, because I had more time to work on it.
Nothing will ever heal me from the pain of losing Aubrey a short seven months later, but I will always treasure the look on her face when she placed the first quilt, and later its sister version, over her damaged body. Each quilt went with her to treatments, and the second followed her home when her time came. The labels on the backs of both quilts were deeply personal, with my words of encouragement and love and some favorite Bible verses about strength and faith that I hoped would reassure and comfort her when I couldn't be there.
These quilts made me think about all the other quilts I've made or heard of being made for people who were ill. There were the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) quilts made by members of my guild for babies in hospitals; the quilts for our guild members fighting breast cancer; and the sensory stimulation quilts I designed for Alzheimer's patients so they would find quilted comfort in a different way—through touch.
My hope is that within the pages of this book, you, too, will find comfort in creating for someone in need. Most of the designs work up quickly and are well suited for group efforts as well as individual creations.
Whether the project is for someone you know or for total strangers who will never meet the maker of the quilt they will hold, all quilts made and given with love can help heal. |