Mom and I like to make stuff.
I am convinced that sewing helps keep my mother relatively sane. As her brain slowly succumbs to dementia, her hands remain busy, stitching away on baby blankets that she will donate to charity. She feels active, creative, and useful – and she is. Handwork is good medicine.
Making things certainly helps keep me sane. I’m not a highly skilled crafter, but I love to make little animals out of fleece and stuffing.
Once I’ve cut them out and stitched them up, Mom fills them with polyester batting. She likes to engage them in light conversation. “Would you like some stuffing in your tummy, little bear?”
“Yes, please!” I answer for them in my best squeaky-puppet voice. It’s a silly game, but we like it. We are easily amused.
Perhaps we are not entirely sane, after all. But our hands are busy, and for a time, our hearts are light.