While I was visiting my Grama a few weeks ago, my mom pulled a quilt out of the cedar chest (I know! wrong on so many levels).
A quilt? Huh? I really was confused because my Grama is a not a quilt person. She enjoys the one I gave her, but she doesn’t want more. I have no idea why I have never seen this quilt before.
Apparently, my sister has known about this quilt for awhile and always uses it when she sleeps over at Grama’s.
This quilt is referred to as Grandma Betty’s quilt. Grandma Betty was a woman who drove out to California from Chicago with my Grama, her brother (Uncle Gene), their father (Grandpa George, yes I knew him) and Grandma Betty’s daughter. I am not sure who drove, but Grandma Betty owned the car. I’ll have to ask Grama more about that trip.
This is the first time I have heard this story and was amazed. The quilt is in terrible condition, but has a lovely soft look and feel to it.
If my quilts look like this in 70 years, I will be happy. It means they were loved.