I drove over three hours one way to visit my mother on the weekend because sometimes you should visit your mother. I took mom out for dinner. Back at her place it somehow came up in conversation that this was the last surviving quilt she had that her mother had made.
My grandmother passed on quite a few years ago. As long as I could remember my grandmother had made all of us quilts and we received several from her through the years. My last one wore out a few years ago. It is one of those odd things that come to mind when you note the passage of time.
A lot of quilts are works of art and I admire the skill that go into making them. The ones made by my grandmother were meant to be used. We took care of them and got years of use out of them and were grateful to get one as a gift from her. Everyone in the family had one. The bedding she made was warm and comfortable to the point where you did not want to get out of bed. Unfortunately through years of use they eventually wore out. I would love to have my hands on one now. You can buy bedding but it is not the same.
She was four foot eleven and never weighed over one hundred pounds. Her home was always spotless and she had an energy and efficiency about her. Her flowers won prizes, her garden was a work of art, and she was an excellent cook. To this day I am not sure how she accomplished everything. She was a wonderful grandmother and I loved to visit her. With her being gone all these years there are fewer and few reminders of her with the passage of time. Hang on to the things that mean something.