The Therapy Of A Sewing Bee

My Sewing Bee got together for our November meeting last week. There are only twelve of us and we have been a bee for many years. Which means we know each other well and are a close-knit group.

Usually we laugh and talk and eat and share and repeat until we are just worn out and exhausted. You know that feeling when your face hurts from talking and smiling so much? Your abdomen is sore from laughing so hard? You feel like you have shared all your blessings with the group and have shared all of theirs?

This time one of our group asked for prayers for her fifteen-year-old granddaughter who had attempted suicide. Silence gripped the room, until another soft voice asked for prayers for her grandson who was also suicidal. Then two more shared their stories of suicidal grandchildren.

The group exploded with love, comfort, astonishment, amazement and advice. How was this happening? How didn’t we know? We are so sorry! How can we help? What can we do? This can’t be real! They are only children!

The four grandmothers were amazed they weren’t alone. They thought they were the only ones experiencing their trauma. What a comfort to realize others were in the same situation and having the same feelings and reactions.

Then one sister began talking about a surgery she was facing and the fears she had about the recovery time. We were touched by the intimacy of her words and sentiment.

Again the group gathered around with love, concern and care. It was a magical thing!

By now, we were beginning to realize our monthly meeting was taking a different turn than it ever had. We had established a safe place. A place where we could be ourselves and reveal our inside selves, knowing they would be treasured by the others.

At that point, someone brought up her feelings about the slow loss of her husband through his memory loss. Many sympathized with her and understood her feelings of mourning.

By this time, there was not a dry eye in the room. Yet we could still share a laugh with each hug.

And then – we shared our experiences with depression. How we had dealt with it ourselves and with others. Much advice was asked for and given.

This was the strangest and most wonderful group meeting I had ever experienced. It was fun (We did share our recent sewing feats!), therapeutic, exhausting and exhilarating all at the same time.

These twelve women, just randomly put together, had provided the highest level of therapy for each other at just the moment it was needed. They gave comfort, support, understanding, empathy, humor, advice and companionship.

Watching it happen was magical!!!!!

Being a part of it was a privilege!!!!!!

It Happened On A Monday

It happened on a Monday. It could have just as easily happened on a Tuesday or a Thursday, but yes, it was a Monday.

It happened at 6:30 pm to be specific. Again it could have been anytime but I remember it well and it was definitely 6:30 pm on a Monday.

What am I talking about? Mac’s first band concert, of course.

It seems Mac has decided to play the tuba this year – 6th grade. (Can you believe it? Wasn’t he in kindergarten just last year?)

There were tryouts at the beginning of the year on many different instruments. Mac blew into the tuba mouthpiece and the director announced he was “a natural”. My interpretation– “We are short of tuba players and you look pretty good.”

Anyway, Mac now believes he was born to play tuba, which is a good thing. He is in the beginning band, a very good thing. And they had their first concert last Monday night . . . . . at 6:30 pm, a very, very good thing.

The evening started out with Gramps and me arriving at the school and coming in to the auditorium through the back door. All the kids were nicely seated in the audience section and no parents were anywhere to be seen. Suddenly Mac stood up and said to us, “You can’t be here!” What ever happened to “Hello Granny”?

We smiled and waved to him. “Hi, Mac.” Again, “You can’t be here!” He’s very big on rules and regulations lately.

“OK” we said. “We’re leaving. Where are we supposed to be?”

Mac. “Out in the hall! You can’t be here!”

I’m not sure to this day what we were not supposed to see but obligingly we went to the hallway and there were all the other families waiting patiently.

Finally we were allowed back into the auditorium and all the kids were by then on stage in their performance seats. Of course, we could not see Mac. He was one of the four tubas in the back row.

The concert was great with lots of Christmas music. All the instruments were featured throughout the evening including the four tubas in the back row.

The time passed too quickly and before we knew it we were hugging Mac back out in the hall. “Congratulations” and “Good Job” were heard from everyone. Mac was beaming.

How special for him to have both parents and both sets of grandparents hugging him and telling him how great he did. Even his great uncle, a musician, made an appearance and was very impressed.

Nothing feels better than family hugs. Nothing sounds better than family applause. Nothing feels better than family support. Even if it just happened to be a first time ever band concert on a Monday night at 6:30 pm.