It was a warm Monday morning, my husband had just gone to bed, he had just finished working third shift, and my three children were outside in the backyard playing. I should have been doing my house work, but instead I was sitting at the kitchen table working on the finishing touches of my needle point, all that was left to do was the outlining, it was almost finished.
The wall phone in the kitchen rang and I remember being annoyed that I had to stop sewing, I quickly tucked the needle into the fabric and answered the phone.
My beloved mother had just passed away, it was Monday, August 17, 1987.
I have been looking for items in my basement that my daughter might be able to use to decorate her new home, and came across the needlepoint I was working on that day. It is still unfinished.
You can see the rust mark that was made by the needle where it had been tucked in twenty seven years ago.
My mother who excelled in sewing and needlework always said you can always tell a good piece of needlework if the back is neat and tidy. I wonder what my mom would have thought of the back of my piece?
The stained and tattered instructions and the remaining pieces of floss are just waiting for someone to complete this piece, but that person won't be me.
This needlepoint piece brings back all the feelings I had when I was thirty five years old and had just learned my mother died.
So I will roll it back up and store it in the basement, hoping that one day one of my daughters or granddaughter will finish this piece.