The Curtains in the Background

 

Looking at this picture, it seems like an ordinary birthday picture from the early 1970s.  There I am, proudly posing with my BAKERY birthday cake.  I was 10 I believe in that picture.  I have attempted to count the candles, but to my best memory, I am going to conclude I was 10.  I don’t think turning 9 would have warranted a bakery bought cake.
 
But if you look behind that little girl, who had such an amazing life ahead of her, you’ll notice the curtains.  Simple, hand sewn café style curtains that my mama sewed herself on a Singer treadle sewing machine. 
 
You’ll remember that in the early ‘70’s many homes were decorated throughout with the “Early American” style.  Those of you of a certain age instantly had a flashback to that design. 
 
These curtains were full fledged Early American.  They hung in my mama’s kitchen for years and certainly they were there during the Bicentennial. 
 
When I was going through the tens of thousands of items in my parents’ home, I came across a tote that included quilt batting, half finished quilt squares, and the hope that someday she would be able to see well enough again to piece a quilt.  Sadly, that never came to pass.
 
But in the bottom of that tote was those curtains.  Those very curtains transported me immediately back to those innocent days of the early 1970s.  Before Watergate, before the Bicentennial celebrations, before I realized that childhood is so very fleeting.  She had kept those curtains all those years.  Why?  I have no idea other than she worked hard on them, was proud of her work, and thought maybe perhaps that Early American décor would become the rage again and she would be ready?
 
I handed off the tote to my daughter because she and my mother had talked hundreds of times about quilts and the process of quilting and I had been told by my mother more than once that she hoped one day my daughter would “take up quilting.”  It seemed only fitting she should have her Granny’s last projects.
 
So imagine my overwhelming emotions when a few days ago my daughter handed me a bag and told me it was an early birthday present.  She had pillows made for both of us from those curtains.  Imagine.  Fifty-five years later, those curtains have made it back into my daily life.  They have waited patiently for the opportunity to be present and to have a second go at life.  What a thoughtful expression of caring and love from my daughter.  I’m so proud of the pillows.