Went looking for a particular piece of fabric today and got sidetracked into a trunk I haven't opened in years. Found a quilt my mother made back in 74, right there at the bottom. Brown and orange squares, the kind of colors you wouldn't put together unless you were living through that decade and had no choice.

The thing is, there's a coffee ring on the corner. Faded now, but you can still see it. She always sewed with her cup right there on the table and I can just see her setting it down while she pinned a seam, not even thinking about it.

I stitched around it today. Left it right there in the quilt. Some folks would want that ring out, but no. That's her. That's the whole story of the piece, really. I told my granddaughter about it and she said I should write it down before I forget it. I said baby, I ain't forgot nothing yet.

That's the thing about cloth, it'll hold on to a person longer than memory will. Long after I'm gone somebody's gonna find my coffee ring on something and know I was there. Maybe that's all any of us are really doing. Leaving our ring on the corner.