My mother just offered to let me finish quilting some tops that my great grandmother (may she rest in peace) made. I am humbled to tears.
I love quilting, though I am quite new at it. I also hand piece and quilt simple designes like my great grandmother did. I admired all of her amazing quilts growing up. I remember her describing some of the fabric as coming from clothes of relatives that passed before I was born, and feeling like I was a page in a tome, a piece of something greater, just like one of my favorite fabric squares.
What are your memories of seeing quilts growing up?