Felt

This is the stocking my dad sewed me with his own two hands.

He sewed six of them, one for everyone in our family (except himself...he's no glutton for punishment). He sewed my mom's as a surprise. He told lots of lies as to why he was home so late from the dental office every night but she understood when she saw the sparkly felt sock on the hearth Christmas morning. I watched my dad sew Rat's stocking since she was the caboose and I was 10. I saw how laborious it was to bead every sequin and how much of a devil that gold cord was to work with. Dad told me just last week that when he found out Mom was pregnant with Rat his first thought was, "I have to make another stocking."

As kids we liked to flick the bells on the toes of our stockings. We liked to hear their individual rings. I always liked my stocking best as it was the biggest and had the best bell sound. The other thing I loved about my stocking is that my name was written in Mom's handwriting (unequalled, beautiful cursive). Dad had Mom write our names on tracing paper and then he stitched the evil gold cord over her perfection. So my stocking is technically a lasting treasure from both of my parents.

Dad gave all of us our stockings when we got married. I feel kind of badly for him since only one hangs on his mantle at home these days...the "Joanne" stocking. All that work for an empty stocking nest!

I made Greg, and subsequently RE, a stocking of the same brand the year they belonged to me. When I found out I was finally pregnant I could hardly reign myself in from rushing out and buying a stocking kit. I told myself not to jinx it and to wait until the 10-week ultrasound.

On the way home from seeing my gummi-bean in black and white I bought its stocking kit. A Christmas tree with a toy soldier underneath. The toy soldier means something to me after this long. I will cut, stitch, sequin and bead on colorful felt because I love this baby. I love this baby beyond measure and I haven't even felt it yet.

*When my dad retired he had to clean out the basement of his office building. It was quite the storage room and so some of us kids helped him along. I happened to be the lucky one next to him as he unearthed his green plastic dental lab box that was the "sequin overflow stash" from all the stockings he made. He bequeathed it to me and it sits in my secretary desk, a memento of his hardworking hands that stitched sequins when they weren't cementing crowns. It's hard to say with words how much I love my dad!