June 22, 2024 - MOMMY and ME – BLOG # 019 – I COULDN’T TELL THAT SHE EVER STOPPED

It was an evening when Mary, Mommy and I had finished dinner and we sat at the dinner table talking and joking. Mommy’s memory had already begun to falter a bit sometimes. She was past the stage of repeating herself and into just plain forgetting important things. Mommy got up to go to the bathroom when Mary and I briefly exchanged ideas to get Mommy busy doing something that she hadn’t done in a while. Mommy's dementia was progressing. Mary and I understood the importance of keeping Mommy's mind active and we were always looking for ways to do that. Mommy had already shared with Mary her love for sewing. She talked about her love for quilting. I wonder if her granddaughters knew that she intended to make each of then a quilt that she hoped they’d keep for a lifetime?

We had an “ah ha” moment . . . let's break out her sewing machine. Mind you, this was not a typical sewing machine. It was a “Singer,” I don’t know, maybe a 1940s model. However, Mommy refused to replace it. I remember as a little kid, she didn’t like anyone near this apparatus. . . She kept it covered in the basement and pushed well out of the way. I recall a repairman coming to the house on a couple of occasions to do repairs to it. I truly believe that no one ever sat and worked on the machine but her, and that’s why I preserved it.

I walked to her spare bedroom where it sat, covered with a blanket. Mommy caught me out of the corner of her eye as I struggled, carrying it into the kitchen area. I distinctly remember hearing her say . . . “What you gonna do with that boy?” Mary chuckled and chimed right in . . . “Miss Gertrude, don’t you want to do some sewing?” After she stopped and stared me down for a few seconds, Mommy scooted her chair over to that machine and got serious with it. I remember her grabbing the top as I raised it, because it was heavy. (The old-fashioned machine folded up and out of the cabinet it was in as the top flipped over to form a desk). Without another word, Mommy just went to work, setting up the “bobbin” and other workings of the machine, getting ready to take up where she left off. I was running late for an appointment that I had to make, so I had to leave Mommy and Mary. But the delight was to see Mommy light up and do something that she cherished all of her life. It's almost like you COULDN’T TELL THAT SHE EVER STOPPED sewing.