Simply Stitched

With one snip at a time...a lifetime of passion can be created and merged into pure joy.

Growing up there was a small little glimmering moment to the day. It was when the morning had ceased to be glowing, lunch had been served, and bellies were ever so full. When the clothes on the line were daintily drying in the breeze of the outside air. The house would smell freshly clean and everything seemed to just mesh together. This was the moment that an incredible phenomenon would happen: My grandma would sit down and just rest.

She would slowly relax each muscle in her body, content from the day's work that had been completed. Her mind wasn’t quite focused on what lay ahead for evening chores, but was able to be free and be creatively passionate in that moment.

It was very rare to see her sit in that old rocking chair of hers. You would start to hear the newspaper crumple up and be put away. You knew the magic was about to happen, as she pulled out her plastic grocery bag filled with exquisite treasures: granny squares, new projects starting from beautiful yarn she always found for a good deal and with a coupon, hooked needles, scissors, and a good fingernail file! My grandma loved to crochet. She would make exquisite doilies- not just the kind that lay flat on a coffee table or nightstand, but the kind that would take an excruciatingly long time to wash and prep and then starch so the sides would stand up straight. She created intricately designed baby blankets and afaghans. You knew how cherished you were if you had one of Grandma Nellie’s very special blankets. Like most grandma's mine was one of a kind. She lived a very long life, in which she had pretty much crocheted a baby blanket for all of her grandchildren, great grandchildren, and some great great grandchildren, to say the least. And she impacted so many lives by passing on her legacy and love for craft.

When I was old enough, my grams was a complete and utter angel, because she took the unbearably painful time and taught me her hidden art of crocheting. I excelled pretty quickly at making chains and then I mastered a new stitch called a “double”. I remember being so proud of myself just making the longest chains possible. Then as my talent progressed, my grams raised the bar. She taught me to make a granny square. This was the LONGEST project of my life, but miraculously I finished...only to watch my grandma admire, compliment and proceed to cut my final knot off and pull it completely apart. There was an apparent error at the very start and I needed to do it all over again according to her. I knew at that very moment that even though I had much in common with my grandma, this would not be one thing we shared.

However, there is such beauty in mistakes. Learning to create with your own hands aids in discovering your own crafty passions. I learned quickly that even though we may have been cut from the same cloth, that cloth can transform into anything because every person is designed uniquely.

There was no disappointment from my grandma when I didn’t share in her favorite hobby, instead she encouraged and embraced what I found to be exciting and a joy. One winter when I was at my church’s mid-week class, I learned the art of embroidery. I don’t even know if my grams knew how to embroider, but I do know it was NOT her favorite crafting pastime. That didn’t matter- she saw how I lit up as my creations came to life with just a quick snip of fabric and needle and thread. She believed in my passion to create and did what was necessary to encourage me to pursue it. When she realized how much love I had for embroidery- she took me shopping.

As we walked into the hobby shop, knowing that this time we were there for me to get my own tools was truly an experience! I had my own coupon clipped from the newspaper that weekend to get one item at 40% off. I started to walk around the store with my grandma just trying to figure out how and where to start. Luckily, she was an expert in my opinion and she knew exactly where to go. We would start with a simple muslin fabric. It wasn't stretchy like the other materials, but she told me you want it taunt. That would help with my stitching. We found the right hoops that would fit all the masterpieces in my head. We meandered over to the books of patterns. It wasn't easy like it is now to just print a file and trace it on to your fabric- back then it was a process. So we spent what seemed like hours examining the books. There were even little paper packets with these iron-on designs. For some reason there was a plethora of old fashioned cartoons in big, blue, bonnets. I don't know why, but that was apparently an important thing to stitch. So I grabbed a slightly narrow book with multiple options of designs to trace and that I felt was the best for me to start. I got a tracing pen that had one end with invisible ink (which would disappear after a few hours) and the other end you had to wash away.

Then we went to the most magical section, which was picking the threads. I could spend hours just rummaging through all the colors that came to life so vibrantly. After picking a few six-stranded “flosses”, but wanting all of them, we headed over to get the right needle and scissors. Who knew having the right shears would make a huge difference? But these two simple items would assist me in stitching simply. We brought it all up to checkout and I don't remember the total or much about the ride home, but I do remember getting home and having her help me pick out my first design. We would get it set up, and iron it onto the fabric. She showed me how to make it snug and tight in the hoop and then how to separate the strands down to just three to create a less thick approach to my stitch. And I started my journey. She helped me to gain patience and perspective while stitching. She showed me how to find this not as work, but rather as joy.

My grandma knew things we're getting serious when I decided to enter a competition for my embroidery at the local County Fair. I could hardly wait to show off what I had learned. Of course being only about eleven at the time, I picked the most exquisite design I could possibly think of: A small heart with the word ‘Princess’ across it. I worked diligently on that piece everyday after school. Every night, my grandma took it out, because there were little imperfections that she knew I could do better. By the time it was submission day, I was beyond frustrated with how many redo's I had to do, because they weren't up to grandma's standard. However, I was proud of my work. Opening night of the fair we headed over to the textile competition. I didn’t think much of my little 4x4 pillow, especially after seeing one-of-a-kind masterpieces as we entered. My grandma on the other hand walked in with such confidence because she just knew I had won. As we turned the corner towards my piece, lo and behold, there was a gorgeous first place, blue ribbon on it. I still have the $3.24 check that I received as well. I was so proud that day and it wasn't because I won. But it was so much more. That moment was the apex of all that grams had believed in me. She saw I had a niche and she pushed me to exceed my full potential. I love that she never forced me to do what she wanted me to do. I love that she allowed me to develop creativity on my own.

I always took my lessons of stitching with me wherever I went in life. Even though I didn't take the time to stitch through early adolescence, I never lost my innate skill. It wasn't until after I was pregnant with my third child and two years after the passing of my grams, that I began to realize I needed a hobby. Taking time to create and creatively design is a special ideal that we all have. I needed something that allowed me to just be me. I didn't even know where to begin, until I remembered a few simple things: needle, fabric, thread and scissors. I haven’t stopped since and I hope one day if my craft doesn’t fit my children, I can help them to develop their love for their own craft.

Sometimes you inherit a legend. Other times it's your right to create your own pathway. That's what grams showed me about being crafty. I don't have to crochet granny squares and make baby blankets for families, but I can choose to write my own journey and find my passion with my art.

Cut out the things that do not bring you joy. Cut the path of your own journey towards your dreams.