My earliest memories are of my grandmother, affectionately called Geema, sitting at the sewing machine while I sat on the floor. I remember picking up her pins and putting them in her tomato pin-cushion. I remember fingering the stacks of folded fabrics she had against the wall, savoring the feeling of the cloth as it slid between my fingers. The sound of her sewing machine was comforting to me. When she would sit in the living room, in her worn pink rocking chair, I would watch her move her small hands and crotchet pieces that would turn into amazing and unique snowflakes. I still have one of those on my Christmas tree.
As I got older, I didn’t just observe, I began to learn. A patient teacher, my grandmother would thread a needle and watch as I carefully pushed it through the fabric, learning my first stitches. She would sit behind me as I pushed gently on a foot pedal and moved fabric underneath the fast stitching needle, creating my first hem. I helped at her craft shows and was able to give informative answers to the questions that customers had about my grandmother’s work. I loved every minute of it. I was Geema’s Girl, and I was going to follow in her footsteps.
Of course, adolescence drew me further away from my grandmother, and I didn’t sit at the sewing machine anymore. I didn’t take a needle and thread to fabric. I abandoned those things that made my childhood thrive, and when I went to college, I didn’t even hem my own pants anymore.
Geema passed away in 2006, and it was a deep blow to our family. Fabric and crafted items were separated between the family. The box of Barbie clothes that I was gifted still sits in a closet, carefully taken care of despite the fact that I don’t plan on having any children. At my wedding , a doll wearing a beautiful hand-crafted wedding dress was set-up in my grandmother’s honor. She’s with me every day; I even have a dress of hers that I still wear.
And then my mother gave me a sewing machine for Christmas this year, and I realized that it was time to go back to my roots. Back to the place where I was so happy as a child. It was time to do what I said I would do over a decade ago… follow in my Geema’s footsteps. It’s been years and years, so I’m starting at the beginning… but I have no doubt that I’ll get there. One stitch at a time.
