I am calling this a quilt even though it’s not the kind you wrap yourself in on the sofa; it’s the kind you set on a table with food and precious people around it.
Quilting is a love language and I used it to make my mom this set (which is as big as a blanket if you were to connect all 8 of them together).
It is entirely upcycled fabrics (a curtain, a sheet, scraps, etc) but the real spell is that all the dark blue pieces are cut from one of my father’s shirts.
My mother taught me to sew, and both my parents taught me to how make treasure out of scraps, how to give everything a second, third, fourth life
My dad was larger than this life and the next, and I know that even in death he is alive in our stories, in our traditions, in our food.
He’s at the table with us