Shery Love

She was here such a short time.  We hardly knew her.  Shery was the most creative person I ever met.  Truly, she was an artist.

I first met her in Dianne Roper’s quaint little shop in Pierremont Common, In Stitches, she had displayed some needlework in frames–Shery’s framing–and Shery was  passing out her business cards.

It didn’t take long.  Women were buying materials, thread, fabric at In Stitches, then home to begin our “therapy” (house, meals, laundry, children, activities; it could be overwhelming) and all spare moments were used in our needlework.  And when the project was completed, it was off to Shery’s frame shop.  So often, many of us didn’t know what we wanted, and Shery would take our project and present the many options of frames, borders (or not) and if we couldn’t make up our mind, we would ask her which one SHE liked.  Shery’s pick was invariably the one we went with and really liked.

Her framework graces my walls and, to this day, people still ask who does my framing.

Her children were beautiful; they looked like they stepped out of a storybook, only a year apart, Emily and Rob.

Opening day of school, South Highlands Elementary on August 29, 1983: I am seated in a kindergartner’s chair, my little girl standing next to me, hovering close, the room is crowded with other mommies and their five-year-olds and across from me is Shery Reeves.  We smile in acknowledgment, our children’s eyes meet, Emily, with dog ears, peering out from her mother’s side, spots Amanda and they stare at each other, recognizing one another from the frame shop but not saying anything, not smiling.  I lean over and tell Amanda “you remember Miss Shery, we have been to her frame shop and that’s Emily, her little girl, you remember Emily.”  She does not acknowledge anything, just keeps her eyes fixed on Emily.  I notice that Shery does the same thing: “you recognize Miss Gene and her daughter, Amanda, they were by the frame shop just last week.”  Emily’s eyes stayed glued to Amanda’s.

Funny the things we never forget.

After the accident, Shery was in the hospital for several days, perhaps weeks and the children were farmed out to neighbors, but one evening I received a call from Jim.

He needed Emily and Rob to stay at a neighbor’s for two nights, maybe three–work, hospital, home–he only had two hands. He had found a place for Rob, but Emily would only stay with us.  I told him Emily could stay as long as she liked.

Amanda was thrilled–a sister for two, maybe three nights!  Emily was always a joy.

With much love and fond remembrances, Gene Self.