Quilts to Remember

I've snuggled under warm quilts my whole life. My bedspread growing up was a quilt my great-grandmother made. I remember taking it to her once. She could tell me where the bits of fabric had come from and even what the batting inside the quilt was.


When I was younger she made my clothes. My sisters, brother, and I had matching outfits for Christmas and Easter; we were always dressed in cute clothes that went together.

After my grandmother retired she began to quilt, and when I got married she offered to make me a quilt for my bed.

We went to the fabric store together. We chose the fabrics that matched my house (rose and wedgewood blue). We looked at log cabin quilts and found a layout that had the colors in diagonal stripes across the quilt.

Grandmama wasn't sure about how complicated it would be, but she was willing to lay it out and try for me.

I don't keep the quilt on my bed anymore, twenty years of sleeping and snuggling wouldn't have been kind to the handmade quilt.

I still pull both those quilts out of storage, just to admire. My great grandmother and grandmother are gone, but when I look at those squares and at those rows of tiny stitches, I see the hands of the people who have gone. I hear their sweet voices, and can wrap their love around me as a literal blanket.

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