Today's post is about more than just a warm winter coat. It's a tale of the true warmth behind the winter coat.
Amy at Angry Chicken has posted photos of her daughter wearing the coat she made back in August, preparing for the arrival of cool weather. It's so beautiful and I know well the work that went into it's construction. Not the least of the problems is the bulky layers of fabric that must be fed through the machine.
Sewing winter coats seems to be a tradition in my family, but since neither of my children know how to sew, perhaps the tradition will end with me.
I sewed coats for my children. When they were young we were in no financial position to afford the beautiful Rothschild coats that some of the other children wore to church. Besides, sewing the coats myself meant that I could create in just the color and style I had in mind.
One day not long ago, my mother was visiting and watching me sew in my little studio. I was astonished when she commented, "Oh, my goodness. I'm amazed at your talent and the things you can do."
Huh? As if she had no clue from where creativity had sprung!
The problem is that her memory is compromised and she didn't remember the gorgeous velvet collared winter coats she would sew for us girls. The coats were detailed and difficult projects.
I left a comment on Amy's post and this is what I said.
"Well, let me tell you that I am over 60 now, and I remember so well the beautiful coats my mother would make for us each year. She made jackets and beautiful Rothschild inspired dress coats. There were four kids and my dad was blue collar, so the coats were sewn from necessity. But we never felt that. We just felt the care and time that our mom put into those coats."
So, like Dolly Parton's coat of many colors, my winter coats meant the world to me.
And mom...... I will remember for you.