Legacy of Love: Mom's Life, in Stitches

Friends, I have been procrastinating writing this blog post, just as I have been postponing calling the probate attorney and the banks and the insurance companies and everyone else you're supposed to notify when someone dies and you've been assigned these responsibilities in their will.  Honestly, I just want to call my mom and complain about how everything sucks right now, but she won't answer.  Her phone is right in front of me in a ziplock bag on my desk, along with her Apple watch, her drivers license, her passport, and her car keys.  All of this is very weird and feels very, very WRONG.

Me and Mom, Naples Zoo, December 28, 2024

My mom, according to the funeral home lady, is "in the lovely blue urn you selected," which makes it sound like she's Barbara Eden in "I Dream of Jeannie" and she will pop out wearing harem pants and granting wishes.  Which is exactly what I would tell my mother if I could call her right now, because that would make her laugh.  My brain understands that my mom is gone and that death came as a blessing to end to her suffering.  However, my heart wants to believe that, if I call her tomorrow, she will answer her phone.  

Last Selfie With Mom, June 4, 2025

This was my last selfie with Mom when I got to Austin late in the afternoon of June 4th.  She had been in bed for three days straight before that, but insisted on getting dressed and moving to the recliner in the living room because I was coming.  I had no idea she only had three days left, two days really because she was unresponsive for most of the day Saturday before she passed.  Her decline over that 72 hour period was just unbelievably fast, even catching the hospice team by surprise -- they did not have the morphine available in the house yet because they had "staged" her as not being close enough to needing it.  Anyway, I don't want to dwell on those few days because that's not how my mom would want to be remembered.  I did write her obituary and it's online here, but there were a few more things I wanted to share here:

The Kangaroo Costume Mom Made for My Son Lars in 2018

That's a kangaroo costume my mom sewed for my son Lars, for one of his high school theatre class projects.  She also sewed some costumes for a middle school production of Legally Blonde that my son Anders was in, as well as a Strawberry Shortcake costume for my niece Sarah a year or two ago, dozens of figure skating costumes for my sister Susan...  I wish I had photos of more of mom's projects to share with you.

Dresses Sewn By Mom. R-L: Bride Janice, Me, & Susan (not the two on right)

The photo above is from my sister Janice's wedding in Saint Lucia in 2004.  My mom made Janice's wedding gown after furtively investigating the construction of an out-of-budget Vera Wang gown in the dressing room of Niemann Marcus.  She also made my bridesmaid dress (to the immediate right of the bride) and my sister Susan's bridesmaid dress, on the other side of me.  Interesting fact -- all four bridesmaid dresses were made from the same blue silk dupoini fabric.  My mom underlined the silk dupioni with silk organza for my dress and for my sister's dress per a Threads magazine article we read together, but the other two bridesmaids on the far right each had someone else make their dresses and neither of theirs were underlined.  That's why our skirts are smooth and structured and theirs look limp and wrinkled.  Also of note: my second son Anders (not in the photo) was only a few months old at the time of the wedding and I was still breastfeeding.  My dress was designed in two pieces, a skirt with a separate full-coverage, boned bodice that stayed up without tugging and had a side zipper for nursing access.  Too bad this was all before my blog started, because I wish I'd recorded how all the different patterns were cobbled together and modified to create these dresses!  My mom was my personal resource and advisor when I sewed my Victorian Christmas caroling costume and my more recent "That Dumb Skirt" project.

When I Taught My Mom Foundation Paper Piecing in 2019

For all her garment sewing prowess, my mom never quite caught the quilting bug.  She did, however, come to my aid when I was panicking about getting Lars's overly-complicated high school graduation quilt finished in time for the blessing ceremony at our church.  I taught her how to do foundation paper piecing and this arced flying geese unit was her first attempt.  I love this photo!  She also made two quilt tops that I long arm quilted for her, a Queen size snowball quilt for her guest room from a pattern in the book Quilts! Quilts! Quilts!, and a throw size flannel Snowflake quilt using a kit from Modern Handcraft.  

Saint Augustine believed that, in heaven, our resurrected bodies will be similar to how we were at the height of maturity, but before the ravages of aging, disease or decay.  That is a comforting idea especially when a loved one has left behind a body that was truly worn out and failing them on so many levels.  My mom's body was just skin and bones at the end, less than 100 pounds when she passed.  She was really upset about how thin her hair was in her last months and she had this whole ritual with rollers and half a can of hair spray, trying to make her hair look fuller so she could recognize herself when she looked in a mirror.  If Saint Augustine is right about heaven, then maybe my mom is like this younger version of herself in heaven.  I hope every day in heaven is a Good Hair Day for my mom.

Mom in 1968, Augsburg College Graduation Photo

I have one last thing to share with you, a little clipping I found in my mom's baby book that was put together by my grandmother.  The fabric scrap is quite small, about 7/8" x 1.5", and the handwritten note reads "My first dress my Mother made for me."

Scrap of Fabric Saved By My Grandmother in Mom's Baby Book

I wish I could see that dress!  So strange to imagine my mom, who just passed away at age 78, as an infant and my long-deceased grandmother as a young mom sewing a dress for her first child!  All of you reading this know how much of yourself goes into the things you make with your hands, especially when you're sewing or knitting something for a loved one.  This little clipping got me thinking about the concept of "legacy," the long-lasting impact we can make on the lives of others.  My grandmother sewing clothes for my mom and her sister, my mother sewing clothes and costumes for my sisters and me and for her grandchildren, and the things I've sewn for my sons, niece and nephews.  There is so much love in every stitch.

I have not touched a piece of fabric, let alone turned on a sewing machine, since I got back from Austin.  I am overwhelmed and grief-stricken and trying to make sense of things that make no sense at all.  And now, I'm going to hit the "Publish" button on this blog post that my mom will never get to read.