Only On Sunday

by Sylvia Eisma

My son asked me, “Mom, why do you sew in the bedroom?”  A good question.

It all began with an empty potato sack. Around the age of seven my mom presented me and my sister with a needle, some thread and the jute sack. An accomplished seamstress and needle-worker herself, she had decided it was time for me and my sister to learn some skills and follow in her footsteps. So one lazy, summer afternoon my sister and I began to practice our embroidery stitches, cross stitches, loops, lazy-daisies and others producing a lovely sampler of beginning needlework. Once I picked up that needle, I knew it would become a lifetime passion.  For my sister, not so much.

From embroidery stitches, to hand-stitched Barbie Doll clothes, sewing became a passionate but clandestine activity for me.  Only on Sunday afternoons did I have time to practice my skills. In my household, we were precluded from doing any kind of ‘work’ that day.  However, my mom was flexible and would let me hide in my bedroom, full-well knowing that I was producing volumes of costumes for my many tiny companions.  I loved working with my hands. It provided much-needed peace and gave me a strong sense of accomplishment.

Years went by and my passion for all things sewing and needlework grew. I achieved a Degree in Fashion Design, made my own clothes and experimented with all types of needlework perfecting some, mastering others. I made baby clothes, and dressed my son in handmade items, until he said “No more!” Even now, my creativity continues to evolve, embracing and exploring art quilting.  As my mom lies immobilized by Parkinson’s, I proudly show her my latest creations. To this day I still enjoy working on a project in my bedroom on Sunday afternoons.