I just recently acquired this old, worn, quilt and yet, it may be the most precious possession that I own.
First, some back story....
My dad was adopted after his grandmother (and caregiver) passed away by his great aunt and the woman that I call my grandmother today. I grew up calling her my Mammal, and it wasn't until I was old enough to understand why our extended family was so small that she sat me down and explained it all to me. With my mother and her family pretty well out of the picture, my grandmother, father, and brothers and sisters were pretty well the extent of my family.
This beautiful quilt that is frayed on the edges with holes wearing through, was made by my Mammal's mommy and it is something that she has cherished for years with all of her heart. It has been pulled out of a dresser drawer many times, holding it close to her chest, saying 'one day I will give this to you and then maybe you can fix it...' and then it would go back to it's place in the bottom of her dresser.
I always dreamed of the day I would own something so special and precious to someone. An heirloom to a family that I barely knew but cherished because it was mine.