ClassPosted: January 13, 2010
She passed last October after living for more than a decade with Alzheimer’s.
Sunday, I brought her sewing machine home with me. When I picked it up, it still had a wound bobbin in it. Pink thread. I touched it lightly and wondered what she had sewn with it.
I love having her sewing machine because it is a piece of her. Sewing was something she enjoyed immensely, something she looked forward to, something that was all her own. She sewed my mother’s wedding dress–the same dress I wore more than two decades later at my wedding (though, admittedly, a bit altered).
Last night I started to organize her sewing box and teared up a little touching all the different colored threads. So many blues and greens.
To have my grandmother’s sewing machine is very special to me. I’ll be reminded of her every time I use it and a little piece of her will always be with me. I think that’s pretty special.