Dear sewing bloggers,
When we blog we end up sharing layers of our lives, bit by bit, even if that is not our intention to start with. We get to know each other and get a sense of who we all are, through our shared interest - the creation of garments.
I was lucky enough to grow up in a sewing household. I heard the sewing machine in utero, was taught to hand sew doll clothes by my grandmother, then allowed free reign on the sewing machine by my mother. It was all fluid and easy, like breathing. My grandmother was a professional seamstress. She had a no nonsense mix of practicality and talent. Her clients would come to our house with material and describe what style they wanted. Grandmother would take measurements and sketch the pattern straight onto the material in chalk. Everything worked and everything fitted. I never saw her use a paper pattern in my life.
My mother, who did not consider herself talented because she did use paper patterns, would also whip up amazing things with a minimum of fuss.
I was the best dressed little girl on the block, but not in a showy way. I and my brothers miraculously had whatever we needed on a very modest budget and needless to say my mother was always stylishly dressed. It was a simpler time. We never did without but nothing was wasted. We valued what we had.
My mother passed away last night. She had been increasingly frail and ill for a long time and sixteen difficult days after surgery for a broken hip, her heart failed and and she passed away, like a wisp of smoke from a candle.
It was hard to believe that someone with such life force was really gone, but she is.