Treasures

 

It’s 1:55 am and I’m exhausted and emotional from a long day of working on creative projects and caring for my Mother, but I wanted to put my thoughts down before I stopped for the “night”.

 

After she went to sleep this evening, I pulled the door to my Moms room so that I could hear if she needed anything and went back to work in my studio which is in the next room. Anxious to get as much done as possible, I finished the Keepsake Box project I had started and moved on to the Pincushion project. I gathered all the supplies that I would use and then I retrieved my inspiration for this project from under the glass dome where it lives. My treasure and the inspiration for this project is an antique pincushion that my Mother had made even before I was born and then had given to me years ago.

 

I laid out the jar lids and I cut the Styrofoam balls in half and as I was cutting all the different fabrics that I was going to use, I glanced at the original pincushion and it struck me how worn and weak it really was, how it needed to be cleaned and how its feet were loose and needed to be glued… and then… I thought about my Mother, and my eyes filled with tears and my throat seized with the air that had gotten sucked into it right before the first sob. Seeing her now, prisoner of a body that is betraying her, is difficult and sad, but after a while, as I work, the tears subside and I am remembering…  

 

My Mother has always been creative, not just because she had five kids and had to be, but because she loved it. She made our clothes, she made our toys, she made our gifts. And as we grew up she encouraged us to be creative. She did not just sew, she made jewelry, she tole painted, crocheted, quilted, crafted anything and everything, and learned and then taught ceramics. But as I sit here tonight I am remembering the hours and hours we spent crafting, sometimes into the wee hours of the morning, to get ready for our weekend space at the flea market where we sold our handmade items. No matter what we were working on that pincushion was always around. All week long we talked and laughed and worked. She told family stories and we made plans and lists of things to make for Birthday and Christmas presents… I cherish those memories and I’m grateful for her love and patience and for the real treasure… my Mother.

 

Having wonderful memories to hang on to is a blessing, the trick is taking the time to make the memories. My wish for you is that you think about your real treasures and then make more memories.

 

Debbie