Thursday, December 20, 2012

My Grandma's Sewing Machine

When I was a little girl, my grandmother taught me to sew, first by hand, and later with paper patterns and her foot pedal sewing machine.  Not the kind with a huge pedal, but one that had a little box with a button you pushed with your foot to make it go.  A sturdy, pretty, shiny black Singer with gold pretties  (squiggly lines) that decorated the spin handle on the side.

In addition to that, my grandmother was my world.  We lived just behind her for most of my childhood, and when I was younger I was there more than I was home (and when I was older I went there directly after school instead of home).  All of our holidays were held there too, and we had dinner with her and my grandfather every Sunday after church.

She was the type of grandmother who so rarely got cross that you remember distinctly the times you heard her do so (I remember two, once with my grandfather and once w/someone outside of the family). She was also the kind of grandma who loved you, I mean truly, completely, unconditionally loved you. I always knew I was wanted, loved, and as I got older and had children of my own, I came to realize, cherished as her grandchild.  She loved me the way I love my own, but she was even better at it (I've been mad at mine a time or two ;) )

She didn't have much in terms of 'things.' She never did, but she always worked, and she always made sure there was 'enough.' When she died, I knew she'd told my mom she wanted me to have her sewing machine.  A few years later, my mom asked me if I wanted it.  I sent her money to mail it.  Of course, I wanted it.  And my mom mailed it to me very quickly.

But it's been sitting in that box, every day since it arrived, unopened.  I don't even know if it got damaged in transit (I am hoping not).  Today I pulled that box out, and I was going to open it...put the beautiful sewing machine on display for everyone to see like it should be. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't open the box, and I've already put it back in the room we use for storage.

Isn't that silly?  I still miss her so.  And it's really been a long time now.  How wonderful to have had someone like that in my life.

I hope each of you has your own 'gram,' or that you are that someone to someone else.  That kind of love, thankfully, never leaves you.