Joy

One summer vacation filled with bike rides and Barbies, my big sister and I had fights galore, as sisters do. One of those days lead to what is fondly remembered as the "So?" fights. The two of us a cacophony of so's in a seemingly unending call and response. My mother, driven deranged, threatens "You wanna so? I'll give you something to sew." and disappears down the hallway. I remember our little girl eyes meeting in a silent 'Uh-oh' with the knowledge that we were in BIG trouble. As Mom came down the hallway with a giant box in her arms, I had no idea what our punishment would be. She dropped the box with a "Sew this, sew something!" as she walked away in a huff. I vividly remember a rainbow of colorful scraps and her scissors. Her good scissors! She was serious. In minutes my sister and I were comparing colors and digging through the fabric treasures. A happy pair imagining, designing and crafting together.

Sewing has always been a source of happiness for me. Trips to the fabric store with Mom, Quilter’s Club in middle school, appliquéing a baby quilt for my son…. marking different times throughout life. There are many happy thoughts and memories. It only makes sense that it is what I turned to when my Dad died suddenly. After we got through the funeral and burial, the grief settled in over us. Mom and I did not know what to do with ourselves, we were lost. Our whole world in life was up-ended, we were left to try to piece together who we were without him. It was lonely without our late night talks and enjoying a movie together.

Just before Dad passed away, Mom had been sewing a little rag doll during their end-of-day talks over coffee. Dad was a good conversationalist. Mom finished the doll just before he died. When Dad was cremated we sent him with that doll tucked in to his best Guayaberra shirt pocket, just over his heart, because Mom did not want to send him alone.

Somewhere through the fog of grief there was a light. We decided to sew another rag doll together. It was a cathartic experience. Each stitch filled me with hope and glimmers of that happiness that sewing brings. In time my creativity was unleashed, I was enjoying myself. Creating helped heal my pain. I wanted to re-work the pattern of the doll into a mermaid. I elongated the neck, and patterned a fin and tail. I wanted the tail to be moveable and put my mermaid in different poses. I fashioned the tail skeleton from a rubber coated garden wire, added poly beads and stuffing to help her sit. I delighted in finding fabrics that gave impression of scales and fins. I collected a kaleidoscope of shiny, frothy, beautiful fabrics. I draped sheer, whimsical fabrics on her head to create the mermaid hair I pictured. I added glitter, small shells, and tiny treasures. I wanted the tiny details of her delicate eyelashes, heart-shaped lips, sequined belly button, and perfect movements of her long hair to look like they were sewn by Beatrix Potter’s magical mice. I'm planning to create ethereal fairies, imagining how to construct their wings and bring them in to my world.

It’s been four years since Dad has passed. Life goes on, filled with my sewing. I shop for more beautiful fabrics, make sure my scissors are sharp, and buy tiny needles. I’m grateful to the needle and thread that with some beautiful fabric, can always bring me joy. Here’s to the future as I stand with my good scissors in one hand, and my needle and thread in the other.