My girls have been missing for large periods of time lately. Missing when I call them to do their chores, missing when I have a question, missing even when I call everyone in for meals. I of course know where they are and secretly would love to have the time to be right next to them.
They are sewing. As soon as the school work and farm work is done they are off in the sewing room cutting, creating, planning. We are blessed to have enough sewing machines for everyone who wants one. My sewing machine is nothing fancy. It was a mother’s day present in the year 2001. That was the year that I taught myself to sew. I love my sewing machine and do not feel I need anything fancier, we understand each other. Erica’s machine was our Christmas present to her last year and Ronnie just received hers.
Perhaps I better put some history into this blog post. My mother is one of 14 children. As a child I grew up with many, many aunts, uncles, cousins and family. One of them my Aunt Lidia, the oldest of my mothers siblings, took care of me quite a bit sometimes. She also raised my momma for a while. She was an amazing seamstress. Her home was always full of the projects she was working on. Her sewing machine always had bits of fabric on it and I was usually sitting close by. I could always count on a handmade present for Christmas. I loved that. The year that Annie the musical was popular, I received an Annie doll. The year of the Cabbage Patch craze, she made me a “Cabbage Patch” doll. I would dig through the little trash bin at the foot of her sewing table for scraps that I could rescue and use for something. I asked questions and generally sat and watched her sewing…I was a pest. She also worked at Joanns back when it was just fabric. I stayed at her store every day after school for year. She put me to work organizing the patterns that would pile up at the table in the patterns section, she would put me to fold fabric and help with inventory. I would escape next door to the snack bar at Sears and come back with freshly popped popcorn. At Christmas time I would listen to the customers making gift plans and would try out all the stitches on the embroidery sewing machines.
During my turbulent high school years I had problems with a few of my aunts and uncles but not her. She never lectured me though she knew of my issues and if I visited her she made me feel as though we understood each other though she rarely said many words.
My Aunt Lidia passed away last year. It was as if a piece of me did also. How I wished I had any of those precious things she made me again. In the days after her death, I heard many stories and with every new revelation felt that she and I were more alike than I had ever known.
Then a few weeks after her funeral I got a call from my mom asking me if I wanted her machine. Yes!!! Yes, of course! I wanted it! The machine I sat and watched in my childhood…it was going to be mine. Would she have wanted me to have it? I feel like she did. I feel as though it is meant to be here with us, with my girls to make many more magical things. I have a piece of my aunt here with me and I can keep ou
r love of sewing going into the future.
I gave her machine to my Ronnie. Well, I actually am loaning it her as long as she wants to use it 🙂 and that machine has already mesmerized her her so much that the secret fort Ronnie usually disappears to next door has not seen much of her for she is busy, cutting, planning and sewing.
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