Grandma Slade's Quilt

Last weekend when we were up North for our family reunion, Rich and I had to sleep on a full sized bed. My nephew and his family came in the evening so they took all the beds in the loft. It has been a very long time since we have slept on such a small mattress. When Mom and I were making the beds while the guys were out fishing, I asked her about the quilt that was on the bed. As I was pulling it up I could see that it was starting to fray around the edges and there were some holes in it. She told me it was my Grandma Slade's quilt that she had made many, many years ago and that my aunt Nadine had given it to her. I asked her if I could take it home and try and fix it up, maybe putting some patches on the holes caused by my cigarette smoking Grandpa Slade. It has to be one of the softest quilts I have ever touched. I don't know if it is because the material is special or just because it is so old. When we got home and I showed it to Rich and told him of my plans to repair it, I was told that I shouldn't do anything to it, that is what makes the quilt special, burned holes and all. I've been thinking a lot lately about my Grandma in the White Mountains. When Len and I went to visit they put us to work catching gophers, doing laundry with the old fashioned ringer machine, gathering eggs and pulling weeds.  She taught me how to make bread and bottle pickles. I've told my Dad several times that even though she was my grandma I never felt that warm fuzzy feeling from her that I wished she could have given me. I have wondered a lot lately about my own grandchildren and worry that maybe some of them don't feel the love they need from me. Why didn't I know she had such a wonderful talent to quilt? I knew she could make bread and beans and bottle vegetables from the garden, but the quilting would have been icing on the cake for me. Sometimes when I get discouraged I wonder what my grandmas would tell me. I know Grandma Fern would tell me to keep enduring to the end, and be happy, but what would Grandma Slade say? I just wish I knew she loved to quilt, it may have made our relationship better, someday I hope to see her again and tell her how I felt as a little girl. Maybe then I will get the warm fuzzy feelings I so desperately needed.