tradition

Tonight I am blazing a trail into unknown territory. There is a little project I have been wanting to do for a long time, and tonight I got out 3 pairs of scissors and I started it.
When I was little, I had a very special, very favorite blanket, named Wooby. My great grandma Maggie made it for me when I was tiny,and it was perfect. On one side there was pastel wild flowers (my VERY favorite thing!!) and the other side had an amazing technicolor 70s print complete with yellow lions, pink puppies, and Raggedy Anns. It had a silky binding that I would rub on my cheeks when I needed to feel it. (you know, therapeutically). My mom was continuously mending it and fixing the binding, (real love is tough on things!) After many years of good, solid, hard use, I lovingly wrapped it in tissue and put it away in a box in the garage. I was leaving for college.
A few days later I married Alan and adopted his childhood blanket-cowboy blanket. Alan's blanket was not as good, but I was IN LOVE with this boy, and it smelled like him, and I thought it was cool that it had been his for such a long time. (Honestly, it was made of the same type of fabric as my Wooby, and that is why I really loved it.)
A few years back, my mom brought Wooby to my house, and we washed it up, and Maggie snagged it for her own at first sight. I was a little, um, hesitant, but how could I say no? It was obvious that she felt a similar kinship to Wooby that I had felt as a little girl. (and let's be honest, for therapy now, I need a little more than a silky rub on the cheek) I let her put it on her bed. Every thing was fine until one night she yelled from her room that she was "ALL TANGLED UP IN THE BLANKETS!!" I went in to rescue her, only to find that there was a gigantic hole through one side of Wooby. I untangled her, gently gathered up my blanket and retired it once again.
Alan's cowboy blanket is falling apart at the seams, and the nasty 1975 polyfill batting keeps trying to touch my face when I am sleeping. Against Alan's wishes, I still have it on our bed (well just on my side-he hates it and thinks I am nuts. I am.)
Anyway, in my mind (where I am 120 pounds and a superior crafter) I have done this amazing project where I salvage my favorite fabric of all time (it's a loose weave cotton, and feels soooo soft, there is nothing like it available now)from both of these blankets, and piece them together into one amazing super Wooby, to snuggle with to the end of my days. So tonight I cut them all apart from their battings and bindings, and cut through all of the 1970s yarn ties and started cutting them into 6" squares to build my very first quilting project. Please don't be confused here-I have NO IDEA what I am doing. I don't even have a book.
The blankets were both in a horrible state of disrepair, and honestly couldn't have been in much worse shape, so I don't feel too nervous. My Wooby had patches and mismatched binding (some yellow, some blue, some thick, thin, silky, cotton) it was almost a quilt already. Cowboy blanket was literally falling apart. I feel like since I am doing this project for myself, it can't really go wrong.
With a heavy heart I disassembled them. Maggie was there and got really upset. "Mama! Why did you cut up that blanket?!? I LOOOOOVE that blanket!!!" I told her I was going to try to fix it. She believed me until she saw me cut it up into little pieces. I hope she likes the final product, I will probably have to share.
I really like the idea of a project so long in the making. I think of Alan's mom making cowboy blanket for him when he was just a little thing. And I think of my grandma Maggie sewing together all of the colorful fabrics that she had picked out just for me, when I was so small. I think of the hot California nights when I had to go to bed when it was still light out, so I hid my face under the blanket and felt the cool cotton on my cheeks. All of the tears that my blanket dried when things went wrong, and all of the mud puddles that it got dragged through just because. It was a fort, it was a cape, it was stuffed under my shirt to be a pregnant belly. It was a friend.
Now I am using my hands to give it a new life as one of the coolest things ever. A blanket. No matter what, it will be perfect. (I am leaning towards a silky binding.)