Tender Buttons

 Anyone who knows me, knows that I am a grandma's girl.  At the age of 7, I went to live with my grandmother. Even after I graduated from high school and left her home, I found myself drawn to the farm every weekend, holiday, winter and summer school vacation.  Nearly 11 years ago, I moved home from Missoula, Montana in order to take care of my grandmother as she battled stage 4 uterine cancer.

Her death is, by far, the event that changed me most.

One of the things I've rued most during my adulthood is that she never got the chance to see me happy. I was a late bloomer.  I didn't date during high school.  In fact, I didn't really date in college either.  And once I did begin dating, my choices weren't good choices.

She had two other grandchildren, and she got to see those grandchildren marry and have children.  I wish more than anything she was alive to see my wedding.  I think she would like Tobe.

Her absence is going to be giant that day. To honor her, I'm working on ways to incorporate her on that day.

Those who knew her know she was an excellent seamstress.  One of my fondest memories of her is playing in her sewing drawer.  She kept her buttons in an Almond Roca tin.  I can't tell you the number of times I dumped those buttons out on my bed and sorted through them, marveling in all the colors and textures.  My cousin and I used to play "store" and would dole buttons out to family members and make them buy their possessions back from us.

I spent this evening looking through the buttons again.  I strung them on silver wire and figure I'll intersperse them in my bridal party bouquets and boutonnieres. Or maybe I'll arrange them in a vase.

Unrelated, I also began sorting through a baggie of miscellaneous jewelry bits I've gathered at yard sales over the years. I'm obsessed with watches. I love the way they look and want to build something with them.  Among the watches, one is my grandmother's and another is my uncle Dick's.