The Family Quilt

This weekend we had to check on my Mom’s “switch to digital.” I figured that taking Fuzz with me would mellow and guilt for being a no-show for the holidays. As soon as we walked in the door the Mom was very excited over a gift that the vet sister had made for her. I instantly flashed to a multitude of gifts that Good’ol Sis had made over the years. There was the “trivet” she made for Dalton and me years ago. This was a perma plaque image of us, camping, two days/no showers, smoking and sitting on a stump. Perma Plaque!
“Welcome to our lovely home! Our home is spasouis and well appointed from our Italian leather sofa to rare finds from our travels around the world. Here you’ll find a rare hand made piece of Dalton with a smoke hanging from his lip, sporting a filthy shirt. Yes! It is stunning, we’re very proud. “

My vet sister is also a quilter. She’s won many 4H prizes for her quilting ability. Upon two seconds in her retirement chalet my Mother carries her newest acquisition to the living room and proudly sits down next to Fuzz.
“It’s a quilt!”
Fuzz glances at me with the same look given when a freak has declared their love to him at the bar. Her new quilt is images that have been scanned on to fabric. Hundreds of creepy Mormon images of long dead kin. Their data lovingly cross-stitched in hearts next to their mug.
“I don’t know how she does this! It’s a miracle.”
I pipe in “No ultrasuede is a miracle, that’s just a good printer.”

At this point the Mom starts going through every person on the quilt. She has that air of “Mormon family tree linage” thing. I mutter to Fuzz
“Mormons are so inbred that any fresh DNA and there’s a reason for a quilt.”
“….. and this will be passed down to all of our generations! Our children’s, children. Here you are Steve!”
Now as my eyes slowly move towards the Mormon fabric family tree. Fuzz starts to laugh, not in a polite way. More of a Jesus Christ this will be seen be generation’s way!
My eyes fall on to my image. Me, staring back. In a skin tight Hoist Leather bar T-shirt and a Lone Stare cap.
“Wow! Look at me, it’s like an afternoon at The Hoist.” On a family quilt.”
The Mom beams. "You sure look happy!”
“It looks like I sent Sis the wrong Picture,” I say.
“No, I think you sent just the right one.” Fuzz belts between laughs.