In early April of this year, I unearthed Grammy’s sewing box. Inside it? Nothing much. Thimbles, some gnarly thread and then I found three little treasures.
Three very simple pieces. They were unfinished cross-stitch pieces, but she’d done the red flowers and the words “I Love You.”
Clearly, they were meant for her daughters – Candy, Linda, and Carol.
I gave the sewing box to Carol, but not before I snagged the “I Love You”s, which I brought in my hand luggage (they are that precious to me) with me to Switzerland. I can cross-stitch and I enjoy sewing. I know, I know…how very ’50’s housewife of me (I swear, I would have killed the PTA meetings…me and my sippy cup of Bourbon and Coke).
I tried to find a way to make certain each girl will know which part Grammy did (uh, it’ll be clear if you flip it over, dolls) and which part her niece/daughter did. I’m using 2 strands and I think Grammy used 4.
I brought them back because I wanted to make my mom and her sisters happy. But, something else happened tonight.
I miss my grandparents every day of my life. I am constantly wishing for dreams with them. As I was working on the first one tonight it hit me.
Grammy was holding this. At some point, her fingers, which were even smaller than my midget fingers, were pulling a needle through each tiny hole, just as I am doing. Perhaps she was thinking, “I wish Candy wouldn’t work so hard at the school” or “It’s nice to have Carol back in Dallas for law school” or “I hope this will be an easy week for Linda with the kids.” I don’t know because I don’t know when she started them.
I don’t know what she was thinking, but I know she was holding them and thinking about her family, which is what I’m doing. We’re doing it together.
When Granddaddy died, I took on his monthly contribution to St. Jude’s. Every time I see that charge, it feels like something we are doing together. And, sitting her with her unfinished work in front of me…I feel like this is something Grammy and I are doing together.
I will treasure the next few months with her. And I’ll treasure the moment her daughters have a Christmas present under the tree that says “From Mom.”