I thought it was a desk.
While we were in Indianapolis last weekend, staying with Daniel's stepfather, I saw what looked like a desk sitting in the garage as we were leaving to go to lunch one day. It occurred to me that it was a nice piece of furniture, one I wouldn't mind having.
Later, Daniel's stepfather asked me if I sew. Well...not yet. I have been thinking of buying a sewing machine for mending or making simple curtains. My mother sews beautifully, and when I was young, I tried my hand at it, though my attempts were largely unsuccessful. I had an ongoing war with the bobbin thread. It kept clumping up and turning grey, which isn't attractive on any garment or project, and it only happened to me. Mom used the same machine, and it never happened to her.
In frustration, I gave up sewing, but it seems that a sewing machine is a good thing to have around. While my mom was visiting back in May, we went to JoAnn's as she doesn't have one nearby, and while she and her friend were browsing, Daniel and I went upstairs to the sewing machine area. The sales associate offered a demonstration, and I have to admit, I was digging that machine. I put it on my mental shopping list, lower in priority than some of the other items on that list.
So, Daniel's stepfather asked me if I'd like to have Daniel's mother's sewing machine. He said he'd tried to sell it in the neighborhood garage sale, but nobody bought it. He said some of the women said it's an antique. Of course I wanted it. Daniel's mother, Patty, and I didn't know each other long. She died in June of 2004, only about two and a half years after Daniel and I got together. But she was one of the sweetest people I've ever known, and we were very close. Having her sewing machine, which was purchased in 1972 when I was just four years old, and her son, my husband, was only eight, would be simply awesome.
Daniel's stepfather took us out to the garage, and that thing I thought was a desk turned out to be the sewing machine.
The drawers are full of thread and bobbins and zippers and all kinds of other sewing accoutrements. Going through all of those sewing supplies, things that Patty bought and used, I felt closer to her, somehow, as if the things in those drawers and the sewing machine itself are infused with her spirit.
I thanked Daniel's stepfather profusely. I'm not sure he can ever really understand how much of a gift it is to me to have a sewing machine that Patty used to make clothes for my husband and his brother. I will treasure it always.
Copyright 2008 Melissa LaFavers