The Past Revisited
The agenda today was to pull out some heirloom favorites to unfold, air them and enjoy them. My mother-in-law Esther Schafer could crochet in her sleep. How thankful I am that I caught the bug from her.
A full size bedspread that has been used and loved and cherished. A tribute to Esther Schafer, my children’s grandmother.
The white crocheted bedspread was on her and Art’s bed every single day. Every night it was folded to lay on the foot end of the bed, ready to be replaced the next morning. It is crocheted so densely, it does weigh a whole bunch. I needed Dennis’ help to get it unfolded and placed on the bed. This was the first time Esther had tried that pattern. She must have fell in love with it as she continued to make seven more. I cannot imagine the concentration that it took. Each of the seven could choose the color that they wanted. Carrie and Kevin’s dad, Orlin, had chosen blue. Thank goodness there was a Ben Franklin store in Hector, Minnesota. I am sure Esther was their favorite customer, as their huge 80″ long dining room windows, of which there were four, also had hand-crocheted, full length sheers. I call them sheers, and they had the look of lace but they were weighty. Esther made good use of the curtain stretcher that had all the points of the rustproof brads pointing outward when there was a crocheted item to be dried after being washed.
The crocheted motifs are not as solid as Esther’s, and thus the project was not quite a timely one. It was a labor of determination. The same determination my daughter has me labeled as, “The head goes down and she doesn’t quit until she is done.” In my defense, it does serve me well.
I began making many, many motifs for my bedspread while we lived in Texas and thereafter until they could be crocheted together. If I ever thought of giving up, Esther would encourage me and talk me through each arduous step, lending me a hand whenever we would visit. Carrie and Kevin were good babies and I was not working out of the home. I filled many evening hours with the task at hand. Even after we were farming, the crochet project was always close at hand. Crochet thread that was the bedspread weight was fairly inexpensive and it sure kept me content. My bedspread was in the ecru color and I always imagined this huge bedroom with this being taken on and off much like Esther’s every day. There was no way I wanted to repeat this project as Esther had done, over and over and over. I was not that strong.
I was the only person in the family who could tackle any crochet project that was put in front of me. There came a day when Esther was gone, but the bedspread still held an important part of her memories. There were a fair amount of repairs that needed to be done. 
Each one of the crocheted roses with green leaves were attached to the surrounding white border by eight strategically crocheted stitches. I do believe that dying the crochet thread weakened it. The darker the color, the weaker the thread. In looking at the bedspread, the roses and their leaves that seem to have a more pronounced border are the ones that I repaired. Yes, there were many, but the integrity of the bedspread is strong because of the repair.
As I said, today was the day to allow these beauties to be put out. As I go about my day, it makes me smile to have them catch my eye. They may even remain in place for another day before they find their home on one of the new shelves that Kevin put up on Thanksgiving day. Our small home does not allow for the real estate around each of our beds for ease of taking off and putting on, on a daily basis. The opulence is desired, but reality and durability of bedding takes over.
Each time I work with these bedspreads, many memories of times gone by flash forward as if it were yesterday. Carrie has the blue bedspread. I did have it professionally cleaned. For one, I don’t have a curtain stretcher. And two, I couldn’t handle all the bulk when it was dry, let alone when it would have been wet. At such time, Esther’s original will be Kevin’s.
Over five decades that some of these memories span, I choose to save the best and leave the rest.