WHEN HISTORY GETS PERSONAL

A year ago today, I flew home from Halle, Germany where I'd spent a few weeks researching for my work-in-progress. Leaving was hard but being away from home was too. My mom's health had taken a downward turn while I was out of country. I knew she might be dying.  

But she rallied and we celebrated her 88th birthday in October.  This was her last birthday with us. On February 12 her body finally wore out.

I spent many priceless moments with her during those bonus 9 months - adding physical care, hygiene, and regular games of Skip Bo to my normal activities at her house.

And since I didn't have a sewing machine, I'd occasionally take mending projects along.

One day, I was using her machine when Dad (who was in an adjacent room) told me Mom was thinking of giving me her old sewing machine, the one she started their marriage with.  Mom wheeled herself closer.  "What's he saying?" she asked. I repeated it and she said rather plaintively,  "Oh, I wanted to tell you."

My mom didn't give things up easily.  She hated waste and didn't want us to clean out and throw things away.  But apparently she decided that having her old machine sitting in a spare room was a waste.  Obviously I needed it. 

I worry a little now that I didn't respond with enough excitement.  I mean truthfully, I liked bringing my sewing to their house and her newer Kenmore was predictable. I wasn't sure the vintage machine would even run. But she felt that it would, so I brought it home and let it sit for weeks before trying it.  Then one day, a month or so after she died, I needed to alter a garment.  So I opened it up.

Plugged it in and flipped the light switch!

That worked. 

I had a little trouble threading it but not to worry, Mom had kept the manual. So I got the thing threaded and found a bobbin.

She'd kept them along with some spare needles in a Sucrets lozenges tin.  

She had a tin of oil too which I just may need because although the machine runs I couldn't get things to move along as they should.  I decided to let hubby take a look at it one of these days.

I've never been a big fan of sewing.  Threads tie themselves into knots whenever they see me coming. But this is the machine I learned to sew on.  Back when I took home economics in high school, I could occasionally get Mom to finish a project for me while I did some task for her. This sounds so unlike my scrupulously honest mother that I might be making it up - but I don't think so. 

Today, hubby does more sewing around here than I do. But I'm certainly capable - especially if the machine cooperates. I have a feeling that once this thing starts humming again I am going to adore her, just because she was Mom's and has been around for 68 years. I've decided to call her Evangeline!  (Didn't my mom have the best name, ever?!)

When I tried using Evangeline, my knee kept forgetting that it needed to press a lever to make things go.

But one thing I hadn't forgotten is how nifty this is

I love the way she opens up and

tucks inside herself with all the accessories nearby.

One of these days I hope I can actually use her but honestly, if I can't, I am cherishing this. If all else fails, I can set her up and show her off. I'm kind of fond of 40's era furnishings 

Mom knew I wanted this before I did. I hope she sees now how much I love her!