~now I get it~

My mom has always been a sewer. I remember way back when Max and I used to share a room...yep...waaaaaaaay back. Her sewing machine was in the living room just outside our bedroom door. While we were in our beds, bickering and causing trouble while we were supposed to be sleeping, I remember being able to hear the start and stop of the machine. It was such a comforting sound...to know that Mom was right outside our room. Back then, she sewed for necessity. She made beautiful dresses for both me and her...she made shirts for the boys and Dad. I remember our family picture when I was around six or seven...she made every particle of clothing in the photo except for the boys' jeans. I thought it was pretty cool.

It wasn't until much later that she started to sew for pleasure.

~~~

I've always admired quilts and enjoyed looking at them. However, I could never understand why someone would take the time to cut apart several pieces of perfectly good fabric and then sew them back to together. I even recall making a few jokes about it. It changed, though, when I was in college in La Grande and Mom made me a beautiful lap quilt. It was so comforting to be far from home and away from my parents, but to be snuggled under something that was made with love by my mom.

~~~

Now, as I sit at the machine and sew...whether it be clothes for Emma (Ryan's not to anxious to have homemade clothes and it really is cheaper just to buy his) or a gift for someone...I understand. As I'm making something, whether it's something quick or something that makes me several days, I'm thinking of whomever it's for. I remember things we've done together, how much they mean to me, and (hopefully) how much enjoyment they'll get out of

what I'm making for them. I know it's a been said before, but there literally is love

in every stitch (Disclaimer: Unless it involves sewing stick covers for an airplane. That's

just plain work!)