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The first time I saw a button it was when I was going through my grandmother’s old sewing kit, a tiny, off-white button. It was nothing out of the ordinary. Strangely enough, I couldn’t bring myself to toss it out. That button ended up doing more than what was intended. It fused and connected me to a memory, to a moment in time I was blissfully unaware of.
My grandmother had a unique skill set. She could practically fix torn hems or broken zippers and was adept at sewing. To a young child, she would appear like a walking magic show while I sat on the floor, and she would twirl around in her ‘magic dress' which I later came to know were her house dresses, casually house dresses. I recall her graciousness to my mother where I vividly remember my grandmother sewing a doll dressed on her sewing kit. She would slowly peel off bits of fabric and slowly got rid of life and enjoyed it.
A long time ago I found a button in a tin box and I had a sewing kit in that box. So when I was settling in my apartment and I had to sew a button, I remembered that I had a button in that sewing kit and I was able to get it sorted and did BUTTON IT.
