My mother was a “crafty” person: tatting, crochet, knitting, sewing… she did it all–and very well, too. I truly believe that making jewelry has become my way of connecting with her memory–keeping her close as it were. That isn’t to say that I don’t still think of my characters, and stories, and “what-ifs” that I pose to the hubs. I will always think of myself as a writer, but for the moment there is no joy in it for me.
Without joy, the story and the characters are almost lifeless, and they deserve more than that.
I still fondly remember the first time I told my mom that a friend from work had begun teaching me how to make jewelry. My mom hugged me! I still smile and shake my head to think of it, especially when I remember how she said that she had almost given up hope that I would ever become interested in anything of a crafty nature. Of course, because this is the kind of mom she was, she began crafting jewelry as well. Although, to her credit, she delved into the much more challenging areas of polymer clays and bead stitching (using seed beads and buttons in intricate patterns). If she had not passed away, I feel fairly confident that she would have expanded into glasswork, or perhaps loom stitching.
As I said, she was a very crafty person, and now it has become one of my fondest memories of her. Almost a motivation to continue to study, learn, and grow in my own abilities–to challenge myself and experiment. Of course I would rather have her here with me, helping me make sense of patterns or teaching me how to bead stitch… but hearing her happy voice in my head as I improvise another set of earrings and necklace or bracelet is enough.