Poetry

Mom’s Sewing Room

Large sewing machine, that she said needed to be serviced.  I piece of furniture who’s only purpose was to hold every color of thread imaginable. The large pin cushion I bought her for Christmas years ago. Silver sharp sewing shears and measuring tape rolled up in a circle lay out, ready to be used.  And in the closet boxes and boxes of patterns from many past decades, the 60’s, the 70’s, the 80’s and the 90’s.  She stopped sewing then.  She inherited my brother’s two life insurance policies, and started buying fashionable clothing from upscale catalogues.

 

Mom never taught me how to sew.  I give it away to one of my husband’s relatives.  I keep the silver shears, and measuring tape though.  I feel like the boxes of patterns should be in a sewing museum, not sure what to do with them.  They are like detailed snapshots of the past.  Vogue, McCall, Simplicity, decades of fashion at one’s fingertips, preserved for future generations and designers.  I can not bring myself to put them in the recycling container.  Does anyone want them?

 

~Deby Cedars

Clermont, Florida, USA

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