People always ask how I became interested in sewing, crafting and painting. I think it goes back to my grandmothers. They were both amazingly talented women who loved to make things. My father’s mother, Marjorie Heilig Swenson, was a skilled seamstress (she learned from her mother) and was passionate about creating beautiful delicate crafts.
Below is a set of bingo cards that she made for my father’s 4th birthday party in 1951. (I can’t believe they were kept all these years!)
My grandparents (my father’s side) at a nightclub in the 1940’s:
When my grandfather passed away, I found this statue in the trash pile as the house was being cleaned out. I had this overwhelming feeling to save it.
A few months later I received the photo below from my Aunt Sharon in the mail showing the statue on a table in between my grandparents. It was taken in 1967 on the night of Sharon’s prom. It turns out that the statue was made by my grandmother.
I think there is a great story in everyone’s experience, so I wanted to share a few things about my grandmother’s life that few people would know. I think there is so much beauty in a life story….no matter how happy or painful it might have been.
Losing a Mother
When my grandmother Marge was young, her mother Mabel would spend most of her time in bed with horrible headaches. There was no treatment at the time, and after her headaches, her eyes would be black and bruised and her hair would fall out in large quantities. There were many hospital stays where my great-grandmother Mabel most likely had electroshock therapy. One morning after Christmas, Mabel was supposed to go to the hospital for recurring headaches and she made the statement “I will never go to the hospital again.” My great-grandmother Mabel decided to take her life that day using gas from the kitchen oven.
Multiple Sclerosis
My grandmother went to a 2-year secretarial school but she was never able to pass the typing test. The administration actually had people outside the door making sure that she was doing her own work in other subjects. They did not understand how she could do so well on the other work but consistently fail the typing test.
The first real indication that something was very wrong was when my aunt Sharon was born. My grandparents lived on the third floor of an apartment building and one day, while Marge was walking up the stairs she dropped the baby…..her hands had just stopped working for a moment. Years later, my grandmother would start walking almost like her knees touched. She was diagnosed with MS.
My grandmother’s MS progressed until she would have to walk from one piece of furniture to the next and even to hold onto doorways. When my father was in high school and my aunt was in her first year of college, Marge got a horrible kidney infection and was in the hospital for a month. At times, her temperature was too high to measure and they would pack her in ice. She was given a catheter and would end up using one for the rest of her life, along with a walker. She would wear a little bag on her leg under pants and shorts that would have to be periodically emptied. No one would ever know. Trips were difficult because my grandfather would not let her use public restr ooms for fear that she would get an infection. My grandparents traveled the world anyways…..working through it together.
A Devoted Husband
Let me just start by telling you how wonderful my grandfather was. He passed away in 2003 and I miss him terribly. He was a wonderful, caring and devoted man. My grandfather was President of a large insurance company in Charlotte, NC but he also cared for my grandmother. If you can imagine….this stoic business man had to go into the local department stores (back when the sales people actually knew you) to purchase my grandmother’s undergarments since she was unable to. Once a doctor asked my grandmother how long she had been wearing the wrong size undergarments and she told him that she just did not have the heart to tell my grandfather that he bought the wrong sizes for her. I cry every time I think about that.
Rheumatoid Arthritis
I remember being entranced by my grandmother’s worktable. There were drawers and drawers of little trinkets and hinges. Marge would take large ostrich eggs and turn them into delicate “faberge” like the one she made below:
I never remember her working on her eggs….and being so young I didn’t understand why it looked like time had frozen at her work area with half finished projects. I would later learn that in 1971 Marge had been diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis. It was perhaps the most difficult thing for her…..her hands slowly became curled and misshapen and she could no longer create the beautiful delicate crafts she so loved to make.
My grandmother passed away in 1987 after a fall.
So why have I shared all of this? I have this extremely powerful creative energy that makes me wish I didn’t have to sleep or eat, because sleeping and eating just get in the way. I lay awake at night thinking about my next project. I have an urgency to create. I can’t explain it except that I think my grandmother Marge is somewhere watching me and seeing that I am finishing what she couldn’t. She was a wonderfully talented woman who was always positive and cheerful despite the circumstances handed to her. When my hands begin to ache while I am sewing or painting, I stop, smile and enjoy the moment because I know she’s there with me…..
Goosebumps… all over. I can't seem to find the right words… Just thanks for this insight into your life. It reminds me of the prologue in the book Drums of Autumn – by Diana Gabaldon.
What an amazing woman! Her creativity passed right to you 🙂
Thanks for sharing!
What extraordinary stories; I have always loved hearing about family histories, there is so much wisdom and inspiration in these. Thanks for sharing yours.
This is like one of the sweetest most heartfelt post I have ever read! I am so glad to have met you in our little corner of the cyber world. I am a better person for it!
Your story brought back so many memories of my grandmothers. They both were seamstresses. Both extremely talented and they both passed on their creativity to me. I have not embraced this as much as I should but I understand your "drive" to create. I have it too. It is as prevalent as eating & sleeping.
Again…a flood of emotions with your post today. How many time did you go back and re-read it? It's good to get it on paper, huh?
Love ya!!
XOXO
I often wonder if our grandchildren will be able to have such incredible memories of us. Life seems so much more rushed nowadays, not just ours, but our kids too….will they remember the details like you have?
I need to write my grandmother (and grandfather's) story as well one day. It includes the start as a housekeeper for the King of Yemen, a Jewish woman who was so loved, even by the King, that they would not search her when she left the palace so that she could sneak home bread for her very poor family. Then her walk with her family for 4 years through the desert (my father was a young boy during this) living as nomads to reach Israel. Then a life without education, she made money as a seamstress making yemenite wedding garments, and she secretly taught herself how to read and write. To her death, at 66, where we discovered so much more about her life. Thanks for taking me down my own memory lane…
Ash,
You are such a special person and you give to everyone around you through your talent and passion for creating! We are all blessed to know you and grateful that your granmothers' artistic bug lives in you!! xoxo
J, M, and C
I love to read about peoples lives and it certainly touched my heart when I read about yours. Your Grandma would be so proud that you are continuing her interests.
Thank you, too, for sharing the ideas and instructions on all your clever creations. I have 2 little Grand daughters who will be the happy models for your ADORABLE "clothing line"!
Cheryl
What a beautiful story.
This is so precious and sweet – I'm sitting here crying. I think one of the reasons that I love sewing so much is because I always heard about my own Nana's love for sewing. My mother tells me all the time how she hardly one piece of store bought clothing when she left for college.
My Nana is losing her battle with Alzheimers. Every time I see her, there is less and less of her there. But no matter what, even when she can't "place" me or forgets that I'm now a mom, every time without fail that I start to tell her about my sewing projects, her eyes light up.
Thank you for sharing!
This was beautiful to read. No wonder you are so talented!
What a great post filled with some wonderful memories.
I'm visiting from SITS Saturday Sharefest and I am so glad you were above me. These are wonderful love stories. Not only was your creativity passed down to you, but what a heritage of love.
Such talent! P.s. I have a great grandma named Marjorie (I was named after her). Also…I have a 2 (almost 3) year old daughter named Sienna! How strange:)
thanks for sharing this bit of your family with us! it was touching and beautiful. 🙂
wow – i have just discovered your blog and this post really touched me…thank you for sharing *hugs*
Thanks for sharing your families story. How much your grandparents must have loved each other.
What a personal and beautiful thing to share. I just stumbled across your site today and got from the beginning all the way to this post so far. I deeply love my grandparents and I know that we are a culmination of our ancestors. Thank you for sharing this part of you.
Sincerely,
Brenda
Thought you might like this 🙂
WOW!!!! So much talent surrounds you.
Loved reading the stories! You were destined to create….thank goodness, because I sure enjoy your creations along with lots of other folks. Thanks for sharing such special memories, I lost my mom 2 years ago Sept. 15 and your stories reminded me of all the times my mom and I got together to sew…..precious memories!