With winter still hanging around, I love to keep cozy with quilts. And I have many!
After my mom passed away, I found five old steamer trunks filled with quilts. I now have 10 quilts from when my mom grew up.
Unfortunately, I got none of my mom’s love for sewing. But I did get a love for quilts. I finger them, knowing they are threaded with stories made from scraps of clothes that my family wore. They are history and love wrapped up in warmth. Quilts stay with us long after we say goodbye to the people connected to them.
My mom grew up in the Depression Era of the 1930s. She never wanted for anything though, she said. She was raised on a farm in Kentucky by her Pappy and Aunt Fanny. They grew and raised all they ever needed to live on. And sewed whatever they needed to wear. Aunt Fanny didn’t just use cloth for clothes. She would often fashion dresses and shirts from the burlap bags the grain came in.
When the clothes became worn Aunt Fanny made them into quilts. The very quilts my mother would dive under on cold winter nights after running upstairs to her room on the unheated second floor. The same quilts I have now on my beds.
I love knowing they were made by my great-Aunt who raised my mother. I love knowing I sleep under the clothes that my mother wore as a young girl growing up on a farm. Calico, denim, paisley, and stripes.
When my mother passed away I gave away many of her clothes, but the special ones I kept. The ones I remembered her wearing with flair. She wore vibrant and fun clothes, just like her personality.
And I took them all and had quilts made.
In the center of one is a lovely patch of flowers from a spring outfit with the words, “Welcome each new day.” My mom did just that. I try to live up to her motto.
All of these quilts – from decades ago and today – now cover my bed and couches. Three generation of quilts warm my house from room to room. And that warms my heart.
Do you have quilts with special memories?