She's Still With Me

This is Mammaw.  I found this photo of her several years ago in an old box of crocheted doilies.  I'm not sure how old she is here; if I had to guess I would say very late teens or early twenties.  She looks very pretty in her pearls and straw hat doesn't she?


When I was about two years old, Mammaw moved in with my mother to take care of me while Mother worked to support us all.   The life lessons and experiences learned while in Mammaw's care would be used to help shape the mother and grandmother I would later become.


Mammaw had a very hard exterior.  She was always very serious and task oriented, a strict disciplinarian, and a very hard worker.  She didn't laugh much but when she did, her whole body shook and she would have to remove her glasses to wipe the tears that ran down her face.  As a teen, she herded cattle with the men of her family, wore jeans and boots, and smoked hand-rolled cigarettes.  As my Mammaw, I rarely saw her out of a dress even while working in the yard.  Her hair was pin-curled every night before bed and her face powdered every morning.  Clearly, there were many sides to Mammaw.


At a very young age, Mammaw taught me how to iron, cook, and sew.  These were not my chores (in fact, I didn't have regular chores), these were skills Mammaw insisted every young girl needed to learn.  I remember her having me cut out five-inch squares of fabric, pin them together, and hand stitch them; tiny, very deliberate stitches.  When I was seven years old, Mammaw gave me my first electric sewing machine for Christmas; A Singer "sewhandy electric" model 50D.  (I still have this machine.


The first thing I learned to sew on that machine was a pillowcase for my doll.  I wish I still had that pillowcase, or at least a photo of it.  It wasn't much but the idea was to learn to use the machine itself.  I don't remember when I graduated from the little machine to a "real" sewing machine...Mammaw's machine.  I do remember, however, that the first thing I made on Mammaw's machine was a red gingham apron complete with red rick rack.  At the time I was being taught how to sew, a lot of work was done by hand such as facings, hems, rick rack, or other trim, etc.  To this day, I love handwork, in fact, I probably make extra work for myself by hand stitching as much of a project as possible; it's very relaxing to me.


I find that I go through sewing seasons; moments in time when everything in my world is just right (in my eyes), affording me the opportunity to drag out the ole' needle and thread and perhaps a yard or two of fabric.  Cutting, pinning, tiny stitches transport me to another place in time.  There are few good memories from my childhood; this is one.  As I take a stitch, in my own hands I see the hands of my grandmother complete with age spots and arthritic fingers.  I can't help but smile...Mammaw's still here with me.