I have masks, a heaping supply of gratitude and a plan to make memories using my sewing machine

Early in the pandemic, when everything except for the worrying part of my mind was shut down, I bought piles of fabrics and a sewing machine.

I also ordered bags of nose-bridge strips, after learning of their existence, along with various types of filters to slide into the folds of the hundreds of face masks I would produce one sleepless night after another.

I was going to do my part to protect America! For about three whole days, that was my plan.

Then I remembered who I am.

I’ve never had a talent for the sewing machine. I inherited this skill void from my mother, who was not about to be shamed for her unwillingness to learn the 45 steps required to thread the Singer Slant-O-Matic my father bought for her.