My Favorite Sewing Project Ever: Walker Bags

I have a new sewing project that's ongoing and very near-and-dear to my heart.  Walker bags.

Every time I say or write "walker bags", I think of this guy.  We all know how epic he is.  Can you believe that he is 71 years old nowadays?  A few years down the road Walker may be needing his very own walker bag.  Or perhaps a few decades down the road; after all, he is Chuck Norris.

Some of you may be wondering what exactly a walker bag is.  Basically, it's a bag that is attached to the top bar of a walker.  Quite the description, I know.  These bags are useful for a few reasons:

1. To stow away essential items like Kleenex (new or used), cookies, an extra pair of reading glasses, word searches, peppermints, hot pink lipstick, etc.
2. To be able to clearly recognize your own walker (walker mix-ups are a huge problem in many elderly communities).
3. To walk with flair.

A couple of times a week I visit a lovely group of elderly people in a nearby Assisted Living.  They are wonderful.  When I first started visiting this particular place, I spotted a few residents who were walking without flair (and repeatedly heard the common question, "Which walker is mine?").  Solution: walker bags.  This is an easy sewing project AND a great way to connect with the elderly.  

Before making the bag, I talked with the resident and got the necessary info (their favorite color, what they like to carry around with them, and of course their life story because that's always fascinating).  Sewing the bag is super easy and fast; some great tutorials can be found online.  Find the one that would best suit the person's needs and tweak it as needed.   Voile.   

Without further adieu, here is the recipient of my very first walker bag, Gigi.

This woman is spunky and no-nonsense.  She now has her walker bag filled with all the essentials and that makes me so happy.

Gigi's walker bag.

Here's another one, more compact...

Cathy, one of the sweetest and most intelligent people I know.

I've made a couple more and can't wait to do even more of these!  However, in the future, I'd like to sweeten the deal by delivering the waker bag filled with the recipient's favorite goodies.   This ongoing sewing project warms my heart unlike any other.   I learn so much from these people and always walk away rejuvenated.  

And, really, I do have so much to learn.  One of my best friends, Kristy, and I have plans to move in together when we're old ladies and relive The Golden Girls.  She is Dorothy Zbornak and I am Rose Nylund. Her sister Wendy is Sophia.  We're still looking for our Blanche.  Any takers?

Thank you for being a friend...

"What time do we eat?"

Well, I started piecing together my quilt and it's going well.  I have four little quilt blocks all sewn together, and the rest are waiting their turn.  They'll have to keep waiting till we get back from our trip to Minneapolis and Chicago.

So in the mean time, I wanted to share a little bit with you about someone I miss.  Someone who pops into my head every now and then, and whenever she does I always smile.  Her name is Roberta.

Before my days as a piano teacher/amateur quilter and seamstress, I worked as a Life Enrichment Manger (still not 100% sure what that is) in a senior community.  I got to spend my days visiting with and helping the residents with dementia (Alzheimer's, etc.).  These are "my people".  I love them.  Various memories and anecdotes may find their way into this blog occasionally, like today.

Back to Roberta.  Roberta repeated herself a lot.  Probably the phrase she repeated more than any other was, "What time do we eat?"  Sometimes at intervals of 15 seconds or so, sometimes while she was eating...always demanding an answer.  Somehow, by the grace of God, this was endearing to me.  I couldn't get frustrated with her.  I felt a strong connection with this woman who loved to dress in red.  She was a bit of a pistol, and I loved her.  

Next to her constant inquiries about the time of our next meal, the only other request she made was for her lipstick.  "Where's my lipstick?  I need some lipstick."  Again, repeatedly.  But how could I refuse?  Even when it was clearly smeared on her lips already.  So, off we would go to her room to look for a tube of lipstick.  If it wasn't in her bathroom, then I would rummage through her coat pockets lined with old kleenex and the occasional half-eaten cookie, until I found that precious tube of brightly colored lipstick.  She would always respond with, "Ooooh, it looks so pretty! Thank you, thank you, thank you."  A few times.  :)

In her final days, I relished the moments I could spend with her.  Brushing her hair, painting her nails red, and singing her favorite song to her (to which she always remembered every word):

Show me the way to go home.

I'm tired and I want to go to bed.

I had a little drink about an hour ago

And it went right to my head.

No matter where I roam,

Over land or sea or foam.

You can always hear me singing a song.

Show me the way to go home.

I love that her favorite song was an old drinking song.  Makes me wonder what she was like back in the day.  Here's to Roberta, my old friend.  Cheers!