Sound of Scissors

Sound of the Scissors

Six year old me gets off of the school bus and walks up to Mom, looking up, completely innocent. Mom looks at my dress, now well aerated with small holes all around the skirt of the dress, front and back. Holes obviously cut with those safety scissors I must have had at school. To this day, I have very little recollection of actually cutting the holes. They must have been quiet, making no sound at all, or the teacher would have noticed, wouldn't she? Apparently, I did not like the dress. So, I fixed it, with my scissors. It would not be the last dress I would fix with scissors.

When my oldest daughter was a baby, I faced the challenge of trying to find clothing appropriate for breastfeeding. I was not happy with wearing a t-shirt and skirt everywhere I went. I wanted dresses. Pretty dresses. Dresses that I liked.

Sticker shock is what I got. I couldn't believe it. So, I dug out my mother-in-law's old sewing machine and my mother's old electric scissors and found patterns designed just for breastfeeding mothers. The patterns were also written for beginning sewists, such as myself.

As I was cutting out a dress one day, with my fabric spread all over the dining room floor and my sweet little baby girl crawling all over the fabric, my husband came in and asked what I was doing. Sewing, of course, sweetheart. But what was that in my hand making that horrible noise. I looked at Mama's antique electric scissors and shrugged. Scissors, of course. But he was not to be satisfied. He insisted that I have a real pair of scissors. A pair of manual scissors. The kind that goes snip, snip, not buzz, buzz. The kind that had a very distinctive sound as they snipped through the cloth. Fine, I thought, buy me a new pair. So, he did.

The scissors were gray and black, with a spring loaded handle and a sliding safety lock. Nice and sharp. Just perfect for cutting through fabric. I made lots of dresses with those scissors. I made dresses and threw them away because I was completely unhappy with them. I made dresses, until I learned how to do it right. I upgraded to a new machine the next year, but the scissors remained, for a long time. And I put them to good use. I made shirts and dresses designed for breastfeeding mothers. Shirts and dresses that suited me and fit me and that I could afford. I made frilly dresses for my little princess, pajamas for my boys and many other things. All with the help of my trusty scissors. Scissors that I grew to love because my hand didn't get tired, thanks to the spring loaded handle. The sound of kids running and playing and screen door slamming and the steady sound of scissors cutting through fabric. That is what my husband called the sounds of home.

Home. Teaching kids to read, write, do math and cut with scissors. It was always a bit frustrating for them, at first. The scissors never could quite seem to follow the line. I would always gently take the paper and scissors, and explain, one more time. Turn the scissors, not the paper. Cut with the back of the scissors where the blades meet, not the front of the scissors. Do not cut yourself. Leave my scissors in the kitchen where you found them.

The kitchen scissors have always been elusive. It has never mattered if I had one pair or five in the kitchen. They have always managed to disappear. I opened drawers. Looked in the dishwasher. Wandered around the house. Frustrated. Kids, please go find my scissors! Now! Magically, within minutes, my scissors would appear in the hands of smiling kids. Except my sewing scissors. They learned at an early age not to use Mama's sewing scissors. Especially not for cutting paper.

Kitchen scissors, kids scissors, sewing scissor, hair cutting scissors, craft scissors, embroidery scissors and pinking shears. Who knew there were so many different kinds of scissors and so many different needs for scissors. I have wondered what people did before scissors. How did they cut out dresses to make for their little princesses?

My princess is grown, now. She prefers to buy her clothes, to my making them. Except for a very special dress. A wedding dress. We have talked about patterns and fabrics and styles. It's not quite time, but soon. And I have the perfect pair of scissors ready for cutting the satin or silk, whichever she chooses. I can hear the scissors slicing through that bridal silk, even now as I close my eyes. And I can imagine her twirling around in that beautiful white silk dress. Just like she used to twirl around when she was little. Just like a little princess. My little princess.

I have upgraded to newer sewing machines and sharper, shinier scissors. I still have some younger kids, who run and play and slam the screen door. Though my husband passed several years ago, every time I use my scissors, I am reminded that the sound they make is the sound he thought of as home. So, he is still with me, with every snip and cut. All of those memories, echoing through scissors in my hand.