31 Aug

Dust on My Sewing Machine

I could write my name in the dust. It’s that thick.








{Okay, yes my first thought was when in the world was the last time I dusted in here, but that doesn’t make for a good story and really I am not sure I want to admit that either in print or in my own head!}

There is dust on my sewing machine. There is dust on the machine that sews the dresses for the orphans. There is dust on a this mama’s drive to support the dreams of her children.

Sigh. {not too hard though, cuz that sends the dust flying…cough, cough}

When the summer began I had great plans of days filled with sewing, crafts, books and quiet moments with my children. Here it is, August. And there’s dust on my sewing machine. A haphazard pile of library books sits perched on the half wall; where they were dumped after a quick trip to the library last week. There are too many toys strewn across the breakfast table to use it for crafts. And my children didn’t get the memo on quiet….at all.

I sit and trace circles into the dust. I feel like a failure. Like I’ve missed the mark on the mama people think I am. On the mama I want to be.

But, yet….summer isn’t over. While the sun is beginning to set on the horizon of summer months, it isn’t over. We still have golden moments to live. To capture.

And being the mama I wanna be doesn’t last a few months. Yes, maybe it does last but a few years before they are out of the nest. But that is years away (and don’t roll your eyes at me and say they’ll be gone in a flash…that is a post for another day). For now, tomorrow is another day.

Another day to look into their eyes. Tickle their toes. Giggle with them. And dream while the world is huge and full of possibilities.

For me, it is easy to get paralyzed by the woulda, coulda, shouldas of life. It is easy to plan and when the plan fails or falls short it is over. As though it was a one time gig.

I came.

I saw.

I failed.

Now what?

I love to plan. I love lists. I love planning my lists and listing my plans. But often life grows beyond my list or outside of my plan. It is not a failure…it is life. And I have to learn to roll with the waves of life, and not abandon hopes and plans to dust and memories.

So, today, I’ll dust.

And tomorrow, perhaps we’ll read a book or start a dress. Or cuddle. Or watch the passing clouds. I’ll plan, and we’ll live…and years from now when the house is empty and quiet we’ll remember the living. The loving. Not the dust or plans.

3 thoughts on “Dust on My Sewing Machine

  1. This is so me right now…feeling like a failure in my home life drama. With the dust and the lists that get carried to the next days list, and repeat. . .
    You know the one thing on my repetive list to do since mid spring? Google wills to start mine and Jack’s. That is not done either.
    But life is going on and, as you say, memories made. However, in a perfect world, more SWEET memories, but yes feeling “failureish”. I do know that is not a word 🙂
    But this, too, shall change-any day now. This I know because He told me so. I have hope, joy and peace. Not the peace that passes all understanding. The peace that I know things will be OK-it’s not time for me to write a will yet. He’s keeping me busy on another task for His glory. <3

  2. Wendy,
    Take it from a Mom who has watched her babies grow up and leave home. None of that “dust “matters. It won’t be written in the history books that “Wendy Blackwell had dust on her sewing machine on September 1, 2012” !!!!

    I like what that precious lady Erma Bombeck said ( and I am paraphrasing)

    “You clean and clean dust and dirt all of your life and one of the last things they do as they send you off from this world is throw 6 feet of dirt in your face!!!” (probably all the dirt you moved during your time here!)

    Not only THAT, they might pour your ASH into an urn! ( aren’t ashes a first cousin to dust??)

    I used to TRY to keep the fingerprints cleaned of the glass door, keep things picked up, try to remember if this is shampoo night or just a bath night…and any other short cut I could take at the end of a “normal” day .Right now I have black handprints on my front door that have been there for at least a month ..My grandson Winston put them there when I had a couple of days with him before he returned to school.We had played baseball in the front yard, He had rushed in to go potty and the black came from the baseball bat I am in no hurry to wash them off. If someone sees them , they will know that kids are welcome here.. I don’t care what folks think of my housekeeping. While I am not going to win any awards from Good Housekkeping, I am not a hoarder like my poor sweet mother was.
    I think my grandchildren love to come to “Granny’s” house because when they are here , I try to cess the moments. I enjoy every second they are here. I take a day of rest when they leave and wouldn’t you know!! all the stuff that needs to be wiped up or straightened up or put away is STILL here when I get the energy to do it!!

    Wendy, you have some idea of my chilhodd , the mother who was there in body , but not emotionally for me. I thought when I had my girls that I had to be SupperMom and do everything perfect, I wore myself out trying to make up for what my MOM wasn’t able to do. A few years later I saw a TV show that showed me that we don’t have to be perfect ..,. we cannot be all things to all people…we just need be “good enough. ”

    Make the memories for you and Will your Precious, beautifulchildren… Isabell and Paxton. That will be more precious than you realize 25 years from now when they are playing with their children and telling them what an awesome MOM and DAD they were blessed with …and that love will go into God’s Book which will last on into eternity..

    Take care of you my Precious Daughter in Christ…
    Love, Eleanor

    I hope my child looks back on today
    And sees a mother who had time to play.
    There will be years for cleaning and cooking,
    But children grow up when you’re not looking.
    Tomorrow I’ll do all the chores you can mention
    But today, my baby needs time and attention.
    So settle down cobwebs; dust go to sleep,
    I’m cuddling my baby, and babies don’t keep.

    • Oh, my sweet friend!! Thank you for your words and your support. It made me cry. Yes, we can get caught up in so much and how we can miss so much because of that. And a house that says, “love lives here” is such a blessing for those that live there and for those that visit. That I might remember that when I feel like the chores are undone and I’ve somehow failed. Keep those handprints on your door, some would give anything for the hands that put them there! Love you!!

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