Handmade Love

I should be straightening up my studio, but I couldn’t resist writing this post based on a feature I saw on the  Etsy blog today, asking people-“If your house was burning, what would you save?” (Everyone-including pets, are safely outside.)

I would save a rag doll.  My daughter made it for me-and this is reason enough, but there is more to it than that.

It was during Thanksgiving, several years ago.  In the midst of out of town company, friends visiting,  and trying to get organized and prepare Thanksgiving dinner-I hit overload-and I got really sick.  I felt like I had a sudden case of the flu, and all I could do was crawl into bed,  feeling useless and miserable.

Amy came upstairs to see how I was doing, and then she disappeared for awhile.  When she returned a few hours later, she placed beside me  the most precious doll I had ever seen—complete with patchy braided yarn hair that stuck straight up in places, crooked features sewn on with a great deal of thread,  and wearing a dress from a discarded baby doll.  And on Amy’s face I could read a mixture of expressions.   Anguish- over seeing me sick, and expectancy- waiting for my reaction to this gift—and apology too.  “It’s not very good,” she lamented.  “Oh Amy,” I  whispered.  “She’s beautiful!  You made this for me?”  She nodded.  The doll was to help make me feel better and keep me company.

I love my daughter, but there are times when the emotion is so raw and overwhelming that I want to cry out-almost like I am in pain.  It’s hard to explain-but I bet every parent out there has felt this way.  It’s like you love your child so much-that it scares you.  Because you realize at moments like these,  that without this child, you would not be able to exist.   This was one of those moments.

This rag doll of mine always makes me smile, and sometimes when I look at it, my eyes get a little misty.   When I picture Amy sewing this doll-the hours she spent on it, and the great care she used in making it…all because she  loved me…forget the diamond rings,  or photo albums, or whatever.   My rag doll is  priceless.