As they neared the end of their life, my Mom and Dad did their best to divide up their ‘stuff’ as fairly as they could between 6 kids. They had a plan (which was good, as it was their stuff). To be honest, the few times we siblings had to get together and ‘pick’ items we’d like to have, it was exhausting. It feels like just yesterday, but My Mom has been gone now for 10 years. The very last item to be decided was her sewing kit and at the time, I did NOT even sew. My brothers were not interested. My two sisters looked at it…looked at me…and both said, “You should take it.”
‘Really?’
‘YES!’
‘Okay…if you are sure.’ I love that I use her sewing kit complete with her bobbin and her very funny one of a kind organizational skills and am grateful that my sisters pushed it toward me.
To be honest, the only real reason it even occurred to me to take Mom’s sewing kit, was that I knew it contained THE Scissors. I was sure my sisters had forgotten that THE Scissors were in the kit. THE Scissors…were a pair of excellent sewing scissors and every time we saw my mother use them, she said informed advised told instructed threatened,
“NEVER USE THESE GOOD SCISSORS ON ANYTHING BUT FABRIC!!! YOU WILL RUIN THEM IF YOU USE THEM ON PAPER!!”
Believe me…we KNEW!
My English Sister-in-law never met my mother…however, her mother was cut of the same cloth. When she was visiting, she needed to trim some jeans. I opened my secret drawer and handed her THE Scissors, and she knew.
‘Oh, are these THE Scissors? Don’t worry I will not cut paper with them.”
“It is okay. I trust you, but hide them back in this drawer when you are done,” I said.
Honestly, I still cannot believe that THE Scissors are mine. I usually keep them in a special drawer, one I think no one will find them. Sometimes I slip up. I left them out on my work surface…and then I got a phone call….from Number Two Son. To be clear, Number One Son is a Firefighter and rushes into burning buildings. He is brave. Number Two might be even braver….or…something.
‘Hi Mom!’
“Hi Buddy!”
‘I borrowed a pair of sewing scissors for my class at school.’
“Which ones?“, I said, slightly panicked.
‘You know… the ones that were out.’
“You borrowed THE Scissors!!!”
‘Yes, I only cut fabric with them….for my class. We have to sew a messenger bag.’
“Did you loan them to anyone? Because you know, if you did and they cut paper with them, you’ll have to kill them.”
‘No, they are already safe back in my back pack,” said the son who is bright, funny, loving, talented and sometimes looses stuff.
“Yes, well…okay, but put them back as soon as you get home…and…please do not do it again…not with THE Scissors.”
THE Scissors returned without further incident. I am planning on sewing with them today…
and looking for a better hiding spot.
I have always wished that our Mom had a chance to divide up some of her things before she passed away. I would have loved to do it with her – to hear her tell me stories about her things, and to see her smile when I picked something she loved – she would have enjoyed that! I already have many, many wonderful memories of Mom, because I spent a lot of time with her. But it would have been fun to do this with her, and also have that memory when I use or see something of hers that I chose. Like scissors!
Hi Cousin!! Yes, it was a little bit funny when we did it… Some one would pick a vase or something, and she say, “Oh, that was Grandma Fisher’s”…then the next person would pick something and she’d say…”I got that at a garage sale!”
Hi Ellen,
Just wanted to point out that a new hiding place won’t help if you don’t put them back each time (just saying this resembles me too)
Love Rob.
I know! However, My Loving Spouse gave him a good pair that are not mine!
I have my mom’s sewing scissors. Maybe they learned that line from Grandma, because Mom used to say the same thing about ruining them. She kept hers in the original box…I guess so we would never mistake them for ORDINARY scissors. I keep them in their box too, for the
same reason. Our mothers would be proud of us.
Our mothers would be proud of us! Sweet sisters…
Thanks, Skinny Cousin!
Oh Ellen! That scissors story brings back such memories of my mother. She threatened us if we ever used them to cut paper too, using the exact same words. More than that, we weren’t ever to touch her shears unless we asked her permission. So my sis and I just left them alone and used the mangled scissors in the junk drawer in the kitchen. Her shears were of a brand called Wiss.and looked just like your photo. I don’t even know if that company is still in business. I agree with you that you need to find a much better hiding place for them. Just remember where you hid them!
I KNOW, I do not think I ever used them with out her hovering nearby until now…and she still hovers, but in a good way! My Loving Spouse is very fond of Number Two, so he is giving him a pair he has…just to make sure he makes it out of school alive!
😉
When my Mother passed, all I really wanted were her black kid leather gloves. Whenever I’m missing her I slip them on and I remember how her hands felt and looked…warm, strong, and usually nicked up from her latest project.
It is so nice to have their simple special things,
Thanks for sharing!
Ellen
It is so nice to have their simple special things,
Thanks for sharing!
Ellen