It just seemed like the right thing to do.
It was a very strange experience some nights one of us stayed with the family and when the kids where settled we would sew. Some days we would sit around and everyone would be sewing and chatting, bits of clothes bought back certain memories, we´d chat about her and how she like this dress or colour, or how she always wore this or that, or the time she dressed up as a fairy or hated yellow and it was like she was still with us.
Everyone did a bit, even people that have never sewed in their life time did a few stiches. Buttons and pockets became embilshments, one lady did embrodery patches, someone else did appique. Everyone did something, the husbands got involed and cut pieces up, some of our young children helped pin bits together and decided which bits to put with what. It was a real "family" no one winged, or complained, people turned up out of the blue, some people stayed for start to finish we all poured our memories and love for her into those quilts.
It gave us a way to help and time to grieve we laughed (perhaps more than we should have), we cried, it become our way to remember her, she was full of laugher and love and I like to think we were able to give her children just a little bit of that to hold on to and snuggle under.
Right i´m going to stop now, as this is making me cry I can´t believe its been 16years.