“You were never waiting to become enough.”
“But if one did come, I wanted that child to have something made before she was even known.”
I couldn’t read for a moment.
Mark took my hand.
Grandma watched me.
Her eyes were wet.
I continued.
“I finished most of it when I was 94.”
“Then my hands got worse.”
“I left the sleeve because I thought perhaps one day you could finish something I started.”
I looked at the unfinished dress.
“I’m terrible at sewing.”
Grandma smiled.
“I know.”
Everybody laughed.
That helped.
I went back to the letter.
“The other dresses belong to your mother and to you.”
“Three little girls.”
“Three different times.”
“If I am lucky enough to meet yours, put her in whichever one fits.”“Do not save them so carefully that nobody gets to live in them.”
“Clothes are meant to wrinkle.”
“Children are meant to stain things.”
