Cut by my grandmother, stitched by my mother, this quilt has warmed me for many years.
Its weight comforts me when I crawl into bed. Its softness lulls me to sleep.
No matter what pretty bedspread I have matched to the décor, this one gets thrown over it every night.
It is beginning to show its wear, some edges frayed and seams let go. This only proves how much it has been loved.
I am going to attempt to make a quilt.
We bought a new bedroom set, and I’ve always wanted a scrap quilt, so now is the time.
First, I cut squares from my own fabric collection. Then, I raided my mother’s sewing room. Fabric from my wedding dress, scraps from childhood Halloween costumes, and pieces leftover from outfits worn years before.
It was not only a hunt for fabric; it was a trip down memory lane.