June 24, 2017

• Tripping Over Memories

  I tripped over a memory the other night. Truth be told, I didn't trip over a memory; I tripped over a rug that opened up an entire train of thought that took me back almost 50 years.

  

  My mind wandered back to the winter that we lived in Indiana.

  

  It was a time of building ties and making memories with cousins and grandparents. Yes, we all looked like that not quite half a century ago.

  We had sleepovers and family dinners. We made fudge and donuts. We devored the fish that grandpa caught and grandma fried... after grandpa's lesson on how to de-bone a fish. We played in the snow and the grass and we all attended the same country church that had been the family's church for years.

  But the memory I tripped over centered on rags and an old treadle sewing machine. The sewing machine that sits in my home now but never gets used.

  

  Our familes got together several afternoons to cut and sew rug rags. After the rags were cut into strips, someone older than me would sew the rags together end-to-end and then the strips were wound into balls.

  

  I have no idea how many hours were spent in cutting and sewing rags, but I do remember that when they were all done, they were delivered to a family friend who had a loom used for weaving the rags into rugs. I also know that there must have been a huge pile of them because I still have at least one of those rugs. Mom has gone over the rugs with me telling me the story behind the rags. There was an old snow suit and someone's coat. I'm pretty sure there were some jeans in the stack as well.

  

  When you enter our house, you will find that old treadle sewing machine sitting in the entryway. What used to be a useful piece of equipment is now a conversation piece that's part of the decor.

  

  I never did get to use that machine when it sat in Grandma's house, but the other night I got it out and tried to make it go. I decided it needed to be oiled and cleaned, something that Grandpa would have been good at, because it was hard to get going. I sat and studied it and couldn't quite figure out how to thread it up, but mostly I just sat and remembered times when memories could be built with a pile of rags and an old sewing machine.

  • 6:14 pm
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