Quilt project helps process loss and grief

My husband, Gary, passed away in December 2025 at the Palmer Veterans and Pioneers Home -his residence for almost four years. The staff graciously told me to take all the time I needed to remove his belongings from his room. Above his bed was a beautiful quilt made by his grandmother-a lady I never met. It is a requirement that only lightweight items be placed on the wall above a bed at the Pioneer Home...a precaution for earthquakes. On the wall in his bathroom was a lovely Alaska-themed lap quilt made by a member of the Pioneers of Alaska. As I took these quilts down off the walls in December, I was reminded of the 15 quilts I made years ago.

One warm July day back in 1997, I went into Mom's bedroom, where she spent most of her time resting that summer. I held three pairs of slacks that I thought needed new elastic. It had become my job through the years to replace the worn-out elastic in the waistbands of her polyester pantsuits. I always kept packages of her special elastic on hand.

But, when I inquired about fixing the waistbands, Mom said it wasn't necessary and then surprised me by asking if I'd be interested in making a pillow cover for each of her grandchildren from her clothing, such as the slacks I was holding in my hands -something to remember her by. She knew I enjoyed sewing...would I be willing to do this project?

Just like that, Mom had approached a much bigger subject. She was telling me that her energy for life was running out and it wasn't necessary to replace the elastic. She had plenty of good pairs of slacks she wasn't even using. Since my arrival in Homer a month earlier to help Dad care for her, she had only dressed in real clothes for medical appointments. She didn't even feel good enough to attend church anymore.

All these thoughts ran through my mind as I took a deep breath and answered, "I think that's a great idea, Mom. I'd be happy to make pillow covers." We started discussing color combinations.

Soon, Mom was admitted to the hospital and from there went to live in a care home where she lived another year before she died. During that year, I had plenty of time to think about the sewing project I had agreed to. Except in my mind, the pillow covers became twin-size quilts.

When Gary and I married in 1973, we received a twin-size polyester quilt as a wedding gift. I was told it had been made by a missionary women's group on the East Coast of the United States. One side of the quilt was a patchwork of crazy patterned rectangles that I could hardly stand to look at. The other side was easier on my eyes with solids of blue, aqua, and rose. I used it on my son Patrick's bed when he was very young, and he continued to use it until he redecorated his bedroom as a teenager.

To my surprise, this quilt was important enough to him that he insisted on taking it with him when he moved from Alaska to Colorado for college. After all those years, it remained

in surprisingly good condition. I hoped I could make quilts out of Mom's clothing that could be as useful and meaningful as that quilt was to my son.

Before Mom died, I did ask her about the idea of making quilts instead of pillow covers. She didn't seem to mind but said it sounded like too much work. When I began the project in January 1999, there were 15 grandchildren ranging in age from 4 months to 22 years.

Over a 10-year span, I put about 37 hours into each quilt. I knew it would take at least a few years (perhaps as many as five) to make them. But had I known the project would take 10 years, I probably would have made the pillow covers instead.

There were many steps required to get from a pile of polyester clothing to finished quilts. I completed each step with all 15 (assembly-line style) before moving to the next step.

First, I cut up the pants, skirts, blouses, jackets, and dresses and then cut the various flat materials into 7" x 9" rectangles. My daughter then helped me lay out 13 quilt tops all at once on the floor of the Palmer Junior Middle School cafeteria (where I worked three hours each day). We discussed various color combinations. There were more blue-colored rectangles than any other color (enough for three quilts) while on the other hand, there were only enough black, red, and white rectangles to make one quilt. Each quilt top was laid out 12 rectangles across and 12 deep. We then picked up the pieces for each quilt and stored them in 13 shallow boxes.

Next, I sewed the rectangles into strips and then joined the strips together. Then all 15 completed tops hung on hangers in a closet for two and half years. When I resumed work, I hand tacked down all the interior corner seams before making a "sandwich" of bedsheet backing, batting, and quilt top. Each "sandwich" was pinned, the edges basted and then tied with embroidery thread at the center of all corner seams. The next step was to trim the bedsheet backing and bring it around to the front for self-binding. The corners were mitered and after top stitching around the edges twice, I went back and put in another round of ties in the center of each rectangle. After it was decided which quilt would go to which grandchild (a story of its own), I made and attached personalized labels.

Over the years, this project faced many challenges and interruptions including a move from Palmer to Slana, various forms of employment, the 7.9 Denali Fault earthquake of 2002, and a yearly winter snowbird lifestyle...in which I took the quilts and my sewing machine with me and worked on them in Colorado, Texas, and California. In the fall of 2008, I "let go" of the project completely during a 10-day hospitalization for a health crisis that I miraculously survived. My father died two weeks later. Eventually though, I was able to resume tying quilts and then proceed to that last step of labeling by the fall of 2009.

The first completed quilts were delivered to three of Mom's grandchildren in Fairbanks in September 2009. Then, one year later at a family gathering in Anchorage, the last four grandchildren received theirs. Comments of "I remember Grandma wearing that and that!" were music to my ears. Eventually the youngest grandson used his quilt so much, I had to replace the binding.

Homemade quilts can be so meaningful to those who make them and to those who receive them. They can connect family generations. The beautiful quilt made by Gary's grandmother was a topic of conversation for both staff and guests that came into his room at the Pioneer Home. It now hangs on a quilt rack in my living room.

Maraley McMichael was born in Seward but raised in Glennallen. She and her husband enjoyed all things Alaskan and raised their two children in various locations around the state before retiring to Palmer. Summer bicycling and gardening and winter snowshoeing and writing are favorite activities.