Down the Rabbit Hole – A Year of Finding Balance

I started this blog to talk about creativity but this year  has been more difficult than I thought  it would be.  It has felt as if I have fallen headlong into a rabbits hole and have been  trying to find my way back for the past year.

Today is the one year anniversary of my mother’s death.   There are many things that I have spent the past year remembering my mom for.  But today, I want to thank her for the love of fabric and and fiber that she gave me.

Admittedly, I was not my mom’s favorite daughter.  I was too opinionated, questioned everything, and was a feminist. All these things that gave us many reasons to clash.   And we did for many years.

But as I got older, I came to see that my mom did still love me even if I choose to walk a path for my life that she didn’t wan  me to.  And I spent the past many years, visiting my parents and learning who they and who my mom was as a person.

My mom to most of the people who knew her in Schuylerville where they retired to, remembered her for her corny jokes.  She knew the names of all the checkout people at her grocery store and all the wait staff at the restaurants they went to.  And their families as well. She knitted sweaters for her neighbor’s kids and other friends. Baked cookies and muffins for her next door neighbors.

But I  want to remember how my mom could knit and sew amazing clothes, quilts and blankets.  As a child, I always got homemade clothes but at a time when that was  not popular.  But due my mom making stuff, I acquired the passion to do the same.

So I would go visit them, and we would go to the local fabric stores, yarn shops and craft stores together.  And as long as she was in good health, this was what we did together.  And  it was  fun to have this on  thing that we could share  together.

I would also bring various projects that I was working on.  My hooked rug, knitting, polymer clay, knitted beaded purse, and my large batches of bleached t-shirts.  My mom would be knitting something herself at the Sam  time.

After my mom’s death, it took me a few months before I could walk into a fabric store and not feel like crying.  It’s taking me a while to find my creative balance as well.

But as with most of my life,  I have fought to find my balance again.   It is still hard for me to want to sew, but I can buy fabric.

I miss having my mom around.  But I do think of her whenever I start to make a new scarf, go to a fabric store and look at her quilts that cover my bed.  I hope that I can honor her talents that she gave me as my life unfolds in the future.

Mom, I love you and miss you.


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