In the midst off all my grandmother's things, there was this afgan. I remember it as being the bed skirt of one of her beds. It's in pretty good shape, just a few holes that can be stitched together again. I laid the afgan on the back porch for several days (okay weeks....I forgot about it) to air it out and then this past weekend I finally decided to put it away.
But I remembered something....I've seen this before...in a picture.
This was the afgan that was on my mother's bed when she was a teenager.
The stitches that we make hold us together...through time...to bring back cherished memories, of the dreamy days of adolence and the journey we've taken.
What we stitch together today will hold through generations.
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