Threads of LOVE

Can you believe it? Well, you will have to. My mother still sews on this New Home sewing machine, which she has had for over 50 years. Amazing, isn't it? It was gifted to her by her maternal uncle who used to live in London. He noticed his niece's passion for sewing during one of his visits to Pakistan and brought this beauty with him on his next visit. I wonder how he managed to carry such a heavy gift in his luggage. He traveled by car and even crossed the sea on a ship during his journey. He must have cherished her dearly for such a thoughtful gift!

She was 13 years old and in grade 5 when she stitched her first suit. My mother has never made sewing a profession, but she has stitched thousands of clothes for herself, our family, me, and sometimes even neighbors—all free of cost.

_{My mother's New home Vintage sewing machine which is over 50 years old, is still functional.}

I am at my parents' home and had a piece of cloth that I wanted my mom to get stitched by a seamstress. I don't ask my mom to sew my or my daughter's clothes anymore because she can't do it efficiently due to her age and health issues. I showed her the piece of cloth, and she insisted she would stitch it herself for my daughter today.

Just after breakfast, she began taking measurements from one of my daughter’s shirts.

I was sleeping in her room when I woke up to the familiar sound of the sewing machine. It transported me back to the good old days when I would wake up to the sound of her stitching. I would be very excited, as most of the time, it was my clothes being sewn.

And then she remembered she had a leftover piece of white cotton cloth. First, she sewed my daughter's trousers for the school uniform with that piece of cloth. Then she proceeded with sewing her shirt.

I had my breakfast in bed, one of the perks of visiting my parents' home. All the while, I talked to my mom and asked her about things from her childhood and mine. I remembered that she once switched her sewing machine with her aunt, who wanted my mom to work on her machine to make it smoother in its operation. My mom told me that she couldn't part with her machine for long. Her aunt's machine was quite complicated and had many functions, but it was very slow in stitching. Eventually, my mom requested her machine back. Since my father was in the military, she had to wait for quite a long time until they were near her aunt's station to make the switch back.

I kept watching my mom as she made the piping on the shirt. She was once so skilled at it that she could do it quickly, sometimes without even looking at the fabric. Now, she slowed down as the stitch occasionally strayed from the straight line, mostly because the thread was black (due to issues with weak farsightedness) and also because she has lost a bit of strength in her hands to grip the cloth firmly. I asked her if I could hold the fabric from the other side to keep it straight, and she agreed. Together, we completed the piping on the shirt with such finesse.

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After once again being thoroughly impressed by the seamstress and her trusty old machine, I decided to delve a little into the information and history of this particular model. What I found didn't surprise me. Someone had praised this beauty using almost the same words my mother had been using this very morning.

Janome’s New Home 551 is one of those machines that you think you can easily do without, only to discover that nope, you can’t. Which is why, having sold my previous one because it was “surplus to requirements”, I had to chase for a replacement because it left a gaping hole in those requirements…

She has further written:

This is a Japanese-made machine by Janome from 1970s, I think, and oozing quality. It’s a heavy machine weighing 15kg and having a cast iron body, although it does use plastic gears to drive fancy stitches, but at least it is not in the main mechanism. It does zig-zag, back-and-forth “stretch” stitch and 14 patterns which combine with stretch stitch and added zig-zag to actually produce 56 patterns all together.

_sr

For comparison, I'm showing you both images of the same model of the machine. The one above is my mother's. Its base box has been replaced with a wooden one due to multiple relocations in military life, although it originally had a separate carriage for it. But I guess plastic has a life of its own, so it finally crumbled, and my father sought help from a carpenter to rebuild its base.

The image at the bottom is one I retrieved from the internet, as sourced in the text.

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As the sun began to set, my mother finished the shirt with a sense of pride and satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. It isn't just a shirt; it is a symbol of resilience, craftsmanship, and a bond that transcended time.

_{I present the final look of the garment - a testament to my beloved mother's skill and devotion.}