My paternal grandmother's house was filled with quilts. They had a guest bed in the living room with a beautiful quilt on it. Somehow the pretty quilt made having the bed there "acceptable." I remember that all of her quilts had muslin backgrounds and there was a lot of that Bubble Gum Pink and green that she finished all her scrappy quilts in.
My maternal grandmother died when my mother was just a girl, but more than 60 years later a quilt surfaced--brand new--that grandmother had made for mom. Luckily, her sister took care of the quilt for her and it made it's way back to us, reminding us many years later how my grandmother tried to do the best for her baby girl--the last of 12. My grandmother and I kind of met in that quilt more than a half century after her passing. I cherish it and the heritage of a strong resourceful grandmother.