My Sewing Machine

This is my sewing machine.  

It's a Bernina. 

 It's old and doesn't do anything fancy, but I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Last week while neck deep in my whole Christmas Crafting extravaganza it died and refused to sew another stitch.  I called my dad and he came to take a look at it, and he said he would take it to the repair shop and see if it could be fixed.  I cried.  Mostly because I was worried that it couldn't be fixed.  "What's the big deal?" you might be wondering, "So get a newer model that does all kinds of embroidery stitches and sews by it's self and makes dinner while you're sewing...."  

The big deal is that my dad built this sewing machine for my mom when they were first married, and he was working as a sewing machine mechanic. I remember sitting on the floor playing with my mom's button jar while she sewed with it.  I was endlessly fascinated by this complex thing that made clothes, and when I was 8 or so I tried to figure out how to work it by myself and about destroyed it in the process.  Good thing my dad knew a thing or two about sewing machines...

I learned how to sew in Jr. High and from that time on my mom turned over her machine and any and all sewing to me. I took all the sewing classes offered in high school and got my own serger for Christmas when I was 16. My graduation present was my sewing cabinet that holds both my machines.  

I sewed my wedding dress on this machine. I sewed three blessing outfits for my three beautiful babies.  I've sewn any number of gifts for my family and friends over the past 20 years that were made with love, tears, and the occasional drop of blood in them.  It is the one thing I own that most represents who I am in this world.  I am a seamstress.  I love that I can take a flat piece of fabric and turn it into a three dimensional item that will bring warmth and comfort to the people I love.  Nothing could replace the memories I have of this machine in my life and of the connection I feel to my mother every time I sit down in front of it and create something.  I am so grateful to my parents for recognizing and nurturing a talent in me that maybe wasn't as overt as the preforming abilities of my artistic and talented siblings.

And I am very grateful to my Dad for taking my machine and getting it fixed.  

Because I really don't know what I would do without it...