Healing process helped by use of ‘the sick quilt’

One of the first quilts I ever made began not with a desire to make a quilt, but with the desire to embroider. Eventually, it became known as the “sick quilt” and being covered with it meant that it was OK to be ailing, OK to surrender to illness and OK to let Mom fuss over you. It was a sign to the rest of the family that you were to be treated with deference, that you deserved special treatment while you were sick.

It happened like this: It was in the late 1970s. In an issue of Family Circle magazine, I found iron-on transfers of the signs of the zodiac. The charm of the drawings appealed to me and I liked the idea of adding my embroidered lines to those of the drawings. Soon, I was running a hot iron over the transfers, printing them in full color on 8-inch off-white muslin squares.

The embroidery took a few weeks, but I was in no hurry. I knew that a great part of the pleasure of stitching is in the process of doing it. I took time to work dozens of closely packed French knots on the heads of the Gemini twins to serve as hair and to add special touches to the other 11 signs. It was whimsical, amusing work done in the evening after my sons were asleep.

When the embroidery was done, I went off to a fabric store and bought several yards of calico, a tiny dark purple flower on a white ground, to serve as sashing between the embroidered squares. I also bought several yards of lavender fabric to serve as perimeter bands around the whole, and as backing.

I spent an afternoon sewing sashing and squares together, and adding the banding pieces. Before it was time for supper, the quilt top was done. Several days after that, I stitched the three layers of the quilt together. I spent an evening hand-stitching around each square. It wasn’t a stellar effort, but it was quaint and charming – good enough for me.

I tossed the quilt over the back of the sofa to have at hand if I wanted to tuck it around my feet on chilly evenings.

Gradually, the zodiac quilt began to take on an identity of its own.

Whenever one of my sons stayed home from school with some childhood ailment, he wanted to be tucked up on the couch where he could be near me – and the TV.

It was only natural to cover him with the zodiac quilt as soon as he was comfortably installed on the couch.

Whenever my children were ill, I tried to ease their misery by making sick time a special interlude as they lay propped on a mound of soft pillows. I provided tall glasses of iced ginger ale to be sipped through a straw. I served them scrambled eggs and toast cut into four triangles, each one dotted with butter and jam. I kept boxes of tissues and a barf bucket within reach. I administered prescribed medications. I made certain the zodiac quilt was tucked up around their chins. I let them watch cartoons and other children’s programming all day. Almost overnight my sons began to refer to the zodiac quilt as “the sick quilt,” and they requested it whenever they were ill.

The quilt saw a lot of service in those years – flu, colds, allergy attacks, a badly sliced foot, a concussion, many strep throats and an assortment of chills, fevers, stomach upsets and other miseries.

As soon as wellness returned, the sick quilt was wadded into a careless ball and shoved to the far corner of the couch until I retrieved it, folded it and flung it across the back of the couch again – ready for the next minor illness to strike.

Amazingly, no one ever vomited on the quilt and it withstood all that use. I still have the sick quilt, but it now serves the purpose for which I originally intended it. It keeps my feet warm on chilly winter evenings.

Snippets

. After today, no more squares will be accepted for the cat mat project. Winners of the books will be announced in the March 4 By Hand column. What I need now is a few volunteers to help sew together squares.

. “Hooked on Art,” a display of the work of hooked rug artist Susie Stephenson of Edgecomb, will be shown through April 25 at Maine Fiberarts, 13 Main St. in Topsham. Gallery hours are 10 a.m.-4 p.m. weekdays. To learn more, call Maine Fiberarts at 721-0678, or visit Stephenson’s Web site at www.mainemats.com.

. Mary Bird of the Page Farm and Home Museum suggests that those who love to stitch should read the story “Embroidery” in Ray Bradbury’s “Golden Apples of the Sun.” The Friday Fiber friends meet at 1 p.m. at the museum. The gathering is open to those who knit, sew, crochet, spin or do other forms of fiber-related handwork.

. The Bangor Area Sewing Guild is offering a class in making a waterproof tote bag 9:30 a.m.-2 p.m. Saturday, March 8, at the Hampden Municipal Building. Susan Hein will be the instructor. Kits with appropriate fabrics will be available. The cost is $10 for guild members, $15 for others. Preregister by calling 278-7270 or 941-8815.

. If you sew, visit www.joann.com to learn about the prom dress sewing contest. Deadline for entries is June 30. The first-place winner takes home $1,000, a Singer sewing machine and a My Double dress form.

. If you tend to lose scarves, try this: Sew a loop of seam tape to the back neckline of your coat. When you remove your coat, pull the scarf through the loop. Most coats come equipped with a loop meant to be used to hang the garment from a peg, but that loop also could serve as a scarf keeper.

ahamlin@bangordailynews.net

990-8153