Thursday, January 26, 2006
Sometimes I am totally amazed at how things work out.
My friend Jane and I often laugh and say we live in parallel universes. If one of our computers breaks, the other immediately does. Often with the same complaint (recently, it was power supply problems for both of us).
Jane and I both grew up in the Frayser area of Memphis, although I lived closer to north Memphis. We both went to Westside High School, although five or six years apart.
Both of us have lunatic husbands; both nicknamed Butch; both who are avid hunters and fishermen who wanted to move to Mississippi to be closer to the hunting and fishing.
Both families moved fairly close to the same area of Mississippi — about five or six years apart.
Our then teenage daughter was friends with a teenager down the road from us who was friends with Jane’s teenage sons. They all invited the daughter and the rest of us to their church — which quickly became our church and which we have all attended regularly since moving here. That’s where Jane and my parallel lives first crossed.
Jane and I both love to read and sew and cook and shop and travel. We often do all of these things together and at the same time — well, not the cooking. But we sure can combine reading, sewing, shopping and traveling all into one trip somewhere!
Because of one of these trips to a quilting seminar, I fell under the quilting spell. I’ve always loved quilts, old and new, and she forced me to love making them as well.
So why I was surprised at the most recent quilt related incident, I have no idea. Yet Jane and I both were “goose-bumpy” at the discovery.
Jane and I both have relatives in the Bruce area. All my husband’s family is from that area and my former son-in-law is from there. His grandfather, J.C. Collins, still lives in Bruce — Inez Collins, his wife of 63 years, recently passed away.
Both my granddaughters love their great-grandparents tremendously and worry quite a bit about Pappaw now that Mammaw is not there to take care of him anymore. So we visit as often as we can — as much for them as for Pappaw.
During our last visit, Pappaw gave me a bag of scraps and old quilts that Mammaw had worked on over the years. He’d saved them just for me.
One of the quilts was an autograph quilt — looks like from the 1930s maybe.
Of course the Collinses were on the quilt. And surprisingly, so were some of my husband’s relatives.
The goose-bumpy thing — some of Jane’s relatives are on the quilt also.
Parallels once again...
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