We got the grandparentals moved out of their house (by no small act/and/or miracle of God) last week. In one of their (the grand parents) many moves, several of the family quilts had disappeared off the truck, so I knew I'd never get one. One of the impetuses for learning to quilt myself; I could copy them, which I've begun to go. Of course now I'm to the point that the quilts I really want to make a above and beyond the ones the family has left.
So when grandma handed me back my quilt I was a little disappointed. At least it wasn't on the free table with my great grandmother's iron, which I thought was cool and snagged but still. She had asked for it 10 years ago. Trying not let it bother me.