When I was little, a trip to Meme's (pronounced, "me-may," by the way) house always called for our most special dress and some patent leather. So this weekend, in honor of our roadtrip to visit my grandmother, I finally took the tag off this special little frock for Lady A to wear. She loved it, most especially though, the shoes - somehow she knew that shiny black shoes (that were once mine) help you dance, because that's just what she did.
And so, properly clad as we were, the quilt was delivered to my grandmother. And my Meme loved it, and I love that she loved it. She didn't really understand who each of the people in the photographs were, but she did keep saying with much enthusiasm, "MY people," and really, I think, that's all she needs to know. We're her people. Yes.
There was something about this day in particular - having nothing to do with the quilt, really - that will keep the memories of it close to my heart for a long time. It was a day full of life, really, in all that it means - full of memories of distant past juxtaposed with the full, young eyes of my little one, and plenty of beautiful 'now' moments where the two meet. It was full of the feelings of tremendous joy and sadness all at the very same time. And I'm so grateful for all of it.