I have been a cross stitcher for 30 years. I started when I was 9 years old. Self taught and just figured it out as I went along. I'll admit that my childhood and teenage stitching was sporadic. I didn't start delving in head first and with serious intent until I hit my 20s. But still, my teenage self did stitch and at any given time could pull out a WIP or UFO to work on.
My mother was a quilter. A hand quilter and dedicated to her chosen art. She even felt that using a machine to make a quilt was, "cheating." (Please don't judge, we all have our quirks.) She spent hours at her quilt stand my father had made for her. ((Why oh why did I give that away when she died? Such a short sighted thing for me to have done...)) She loved her quilting and was passionate about it.
But some how...for some reason...she and I completely missed each other in the world of needle arts. I don't know why. It makes no sense to me now. I was never much interested in her quilting and she was never much interested in my stitching. Which makes absolutely no sense because we were close and had a good relationship.
Why....why did I not take my stitching and go and sit next to her quilting stand and stitch with her while she was quilting? Why did she never think to ask me to do so? As women in the needle arts, aren't we always looking for another woman to share this experience with? Aren't many of us almost desperate for that experience? It's why online groups are so popular and stitching retreats are held up as the very best end all-be all experience a stitcher can have.
And my mother and I could have had it every day. And neither of us thought about it. I guess I was too much of a flighty teenager to even think about such things. And if she ever did think about it, maybe she didn't say anything for fear of rejection....from the flighty teenager. And it's true, I probably could not have appreciated the situation then.
But now, oh what I'd give to be able and sit in that room with her again and stitch while she quilts. You know what they say about not knowing what you've got until it's gone?
So very true.