The quilt has been hanging on the rack for at least five years, but the other night I wanted to look at it. There's a pattern I remember from Aunt Betty Lou's funeral. My dress was yellow and black. Aunt Orneda told mom it was too bright for a funeral. I was in third grade.



There's fabric from Mom's dresses and flannel from our pajamas.



Mom would work on the squares and when she ran out of pieces for the square, she would finish it with a similar color. When they were all stitched together, she'd have Dad bring in the "work horses" and stretch the quilt out and "quilt" it. I remember the rolls of batting, so soft and hours and hours of stitching. There are probably 10,000 or more tiny stitches. Our living room was filled with the quilt for several weeks. When it was done, us kids always wanted it - new and soft. Sometimes we'd have up to three quilts on our beds.