Growing up there were certain things that were ALWAYS happening at my house. First there was sewing. My mom would be sewing, my aunt would be sewing, they were always sewing something. I remember I would always get mad because they would sew and watch t.v., well anyone who has spent any amount of time around a sewing machine knows that it makes noise. I could never figure out who you could sew and watch t.v. I remember weekends spent yelling at my mom and aunt Mary to stop sewing for a bit so I could hear something on the t.v.
Even with all the sewing going on in my house I never learned how to do it. My mom recalls a conversation when I told her that I didn’t need to learn to sew because I had my Aunt Mary and Mom to sew for me. It’s true, I hated those machines and I hated the time it took away from me spending the time with my Mom and Aunt Mary.
The second thing that was always around in my house was a glue gun. Either my mom was putting together a floral arrangement or Aunt Mary was putting together crafts. While the glue gun didn’t give off any sounds, it did give off a smell. The smell of the counter top burning, the smell of whatever was being glued burning, the smell of flesh burning, you could never tell what was going to become victim of the glue gun.
Now here I sit as your typical adult with stresses and chaos and worries and I find myself longing for a rainy Saturday afternoon falling asleep on the couch to the sounds of a sewing machine and a movie in the background. Twenty years ago if you would have told me that one day I would long for that sound and that I would find it relaxing I would have laughed at you. I never would have thought how much I would want to see and smell a glue gun being used. It’s amazing to me how you never really know what you are going to take from your childhood, how you never really know what parts are going to be important and sadly missed.