WORKING WITH MY HANDS

What quarantine taught me

- DAPHNE OSEÑA PAEZ

“Why are you still sewing?” My husband asked me this question one afternoon while I was doing my daily activity. Fabric, pins, needles, and elastic were strewn beside my old sewing machine on my work table. I have been sewing fabric masks since quarantine started three months ago. I’ve made around 200 and I am still at it.

I’ve owned a starter-level sewing machine for over 13 years but only learned how to use it seven years ago. I imagined myself as a hobbyist, a crafter who could sew simple skirts for my daughters and me, placemats and tea towels for gifts, and maybe evolve to more sophisticated design projects. None of that happened. I ended up making only three pillow cases and packed away my sewing machine.

When ECQ was declared, like many, I had to deal with a lot of emotions— shock, anxiety, fear, and helplessness were some of them. I joined the majority who couldn’t get a restful sleep. I would wake up at the crack of dawn. My husband Patrick and I would sit outside and watch the sunrise in silence. Sometimes we both wore earphones. He’d monitor the news, while I listened tearfully to Pope Francis or surfed Instagram and checked on other cities around the world. Those mornings were quite beautiful. I enjoyed watching the light change from dark to pastel pink and then to bright orange and white. Every day was about getting enough sunshine. I’d sit quietly staring out into a suburban farm lot behind the narra and ylang-ylang trees I planted myself over 20 years ago. The world stood still. I didn’t hear the city. There were no motorcycles, no airplanes, no cars. And as days rolled by, I’d pray and the tears were replaced by a feeling of peace.