Oddly, this process was a very emotional one for me. Not because I am particularly attached to my junk--most of it truly was just that, junk. But I came across so many things that had been tucked away and forgotten--journals from my youth, letters from my mother, cards exchanged with my sweetheart, my children's blessing clothing, and many little knick knacks that brought a flood of memories.
In the basement,I happened upon a bin full of linens and blankets, one of which was this one.
It's a bow-tie quilt that my mother got from my Great-Aunt Radie. I remember Aunt Radie's little yellow clapboard house that smelled a bit funny to a me as a child. I remember how she welcomed us with such delight every time we arrived, and how she covered her mouth when she smiled as she was missing several front teeth. This quilt was made from pieces of her own dresses.
And it is perfect. Perfect because it shows off her vibrant and colorful personality. Perfect because it reminds me of my heritage. Perfect because it is imperfect--just like us.
