When did I become my mother?

I can never remember a time when my mother was not making something. She could sew, knit, crochet, embroider, needlepoint and ultimately paint. When I was young, she made most of my clothes.

I can see her sitting in her chair in the den, smoking, drinking black coffee and working on some project or another. Her hands whizzed back and forth or in and out. She never missed a step and could carry on all kinds of conversations or watch TV, too.

She taught me to knit and embroider. I had no patience for sewing so I was quite bad at it. In seventh-grade home economics, my teacher said she would pass me if I promised not to wear the skirt I had made to school.

When I was pregnant with my first child, my mother made a lovely pink sweater and hat set for the coming baby (my first child was a boy). She made another pink sweater set for my second child (also a boy). When I was pregnant with my third child, she made a pink, blue and white sweater set. This was wise since my third was also a boy.

Each fall, my mom would make each of my children a sweater for school. I still have many of those sweaters.

During the war in 1944, a friend said to her, “Lulu, your husband is overseas. Don’t you think it would be nice if you gave up something you like as a prayer for his safety?”

Lulu was 20 years old and thought about this for a while. She decided that she would never do needle work on the Sabbath as a prayer for my dad’s safety. In my entire life, my mother never picked up a needle on Saturday.

As a teenager, I dabbled with knitting and embroidery. Later, I became interested in needlepoint, which is my favorite medium. However, I do many of the mediums (except sewing). I have my favorite seat, with good light on the couch and a glass of ice water on the table.

A few years ago, I took my grandson out for a birthday dinner. His parents had given him a portable basketball hoop for his birthday. On the ride home, he said, “I am anxious to get home and throw some basketballs with my dad. You probably want to go home and get to your knitting.”

As I rode home, I said to myself, “When did I become my mother?”

MAY-RONNY ZEIDMAN (may@bornsteinholocaustcenter) is the executive director of the Sandra Bornstein Holocaust Education Center.