Thursday, October 23, 2008

Sewing Time

I lost a button on a pair of pants several months ago and about a week ago Roland asked me to sew a button back on his shirt. Last night I finally sat down to do it.

I don't sew much. In fact, for a while I didn't have any needles. I thought about buying some, but when I looked at the packages they had so many needles in them! I figure I'm 53 and will maybe need five more needles to last me the rest of life (if I live to be 80 or so)! But when my mother died in May and I was going through her things, I took a small tin and filled it with a few of her sewing items--a few needles, a pin cushion, a seam ripper, thread (I wish I would have seen a small pair of sewing scissors)--and brought it home with me. I used that small sewing kit for the first time last night to sew those two buttons on. It was nice to hold the needle and thread my mother used to complete this small task. As I worked, my mind wandered back to sewing memories with my mom.

One time she visited, my teenage son, David, had lost a button on the cuff of his Sunday shirt, and had sat down in my mother's presence to sew it on. He got the needle threaded and without taking off his shirt, began sewing it onto the cuff. My mom sat and watched in quiet amusement at the awkwardness of this sewing. And after he had almost completed the job, my mom asked, "Wouldn't it be easier if you took your shirt off? Now, I wonder why he hadn't? Was it a modesty issue? Or had it he felt it just wasn't worth the effort?

When my mother came to visit, we always went out shopping. She didn't get out much on her own to shop and there's no better companion than your mom (or daughter) for shopping. We're both bargain shoppers, I remember so many times when we would purchase new slacks for her and they would need hemmed. She no longer enjoyed sewing, so I would do it for her. It was always a restful activity to sit down together while I hemmed her slacks. I think I could even call it a loving service. We both enjoyed that time together, and while it was no professional job, it was a good job--and my mom was very appreciative and always complimented me on my fine, small stitches. I remember one time in particular when I labored so long to get the needle threaded and just couldn't line the thread up with the hole in the needle. My eyes aren't the best. My mom said, "Let me try." I handed it to her, and first try she had the needle threaded. At 70-something her eyes worked better than mine. (She always could see every little spot and if she couldn't get to it to see what it was, she'd ask what it was!)

I now have two small sewing kits--a tin from my mom and a basket I bought in Indonesia. I guess I could keep one upstairs and one downstairs. But I don't want to combine them into one. They're both special. And that's kind of odd for someone who doesn't like to sew.