A Road Less Travelled

Some time ago I was listening to a sermon about being a mother that had been preached on Mother’s Day. At one point the pastor asked some mothers in the congragation to say what they have learned about life from being a mother. The one that stands out to me the most is when a woman said she’s learned what a joy children can be, how delightful children can be. Tonight at dinner Noah was talking about I’m not sure what. He was sitting there prattling away and the rest of us were catching maybe one word in five. He seemed to wrap up what he was saying and he looked at us expectantly. Seth stared back at him and said, “Noah, I have no idea what you just said.” Noah smiled real big, threw his arms out to the sides and said, “Ta-da!” Everyone around the table burst out laughing. Noah sat for a minute smiling real big and then he started laughing with us. It was a truly delightful moment.

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for one moment
I think I can catch it
before it shatters 

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graceful white petals
floating in the kitchen sink
with potato peels 

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pine needles
glowing
in candlelight 

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Ladies and Gentlemen, today is a very sad day indeed. Today is the day we have gathered together to mourn the passing of a dress. This dress has been my constant companion for over a year and though I am sorry to see it go I do feel that this is the right thing to do. I have mended and patched this dress several times, but now I see that it is time to let it go.

I first knew that the time had come to retire the purple dress when I noticed a tear. Now, this was not the first tear this dress and I had gone through together. Many were the times I had to get out the old needle and thread and fix some rip or the other. But lately I had been noticing a certain hesitancy on the dress’ part to want to stayed sewn together. It started rejecting the patches I put into it and with this new tear I knew it was time. I didn’t want to subject my dress to yet another patch or mending. So, it is time to say goodbye.

But this doesn’t have to be only a time of sadness. This should be a time to celebrate the life of the purple dress. So please listen while I honor the memory of this dress by sharing a few of the good times we had together.

This dress was one of my first purple dresses, the first purple dress I made by myself. It was made out of lightweight cotton which made it perfect for those hot summer days. And yet with just one more layer it kept me warm in those cold winter winds. I remember sewing it and thinking that I hoped I would like this dress. I hadn’t done much with the pattern before and I was a little nerveous it wouldn’t turn out well. But just looking at the beautiful purple was enough to spur me on to greater heights of sewing genius. And in the end I had a dress that served me well for over a year.

This dress was the dress I wore to celebrate the very first Day of Purple. And it was this dress the I was wearing when I took the kids to the park on a windy day. Oh, that day it was as if the dress had a mind of it’s own. I’ve worn this dress for good times, bad times and crazy times. Mostly crazy times. And always, the fact that I was wearing a purple dress got me through.

If this dress had been a person I suspect she would have look rather flustered all the time and had flyaway hair. Somewhere in the life of this purple dress it picked up a couple of bleached stains. I have no idea where they came from, but for me they gave the dress more character. No longer was this some garden variety purple dress. This was a purple dress with bleach stains! It was something I and my dress could be proud of. Sometimes it’s the little things that make you really appreciate a purple dress and make everybody else think you’re crazy.

Goodbye purple dress. It’s been good. I know that if your fabric is still good enough for me to cut up and put into something else I will think of you when I see your dismembered parts. I will always think of you as a friend. Goodbye, goodbye.

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 Yesterday I made my first real attempt at patternless sewing. (The nightgown and apron don’t count because they aren’t real clothes, and the funky skirtaloon thing I made once doesn’t count either. Just because, that’s why.)

 In less than three hours I cut a neckhole in the middle of some fabric, cut it out with big sleeves and a flared skirt, sewed up the sides, and hemmed all the rough edges. Now, I’ll grant you it’s not going to win any fashion design contests, but it’s very wearable. Yes, more than just wearable–it truly is very wearable because (a) I said so and (b) it has no glaring errors that annoy me when I when I wear it.

  The best part is that I actually enjoyed making it instead of merely enduring the process in order to achieve the finished product. I could get to enjoy this whole idea of sewing. That’s rather an odd thought for me.

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 There are moments in life when one is suddenly sure of one’s part in the script, when one can almost hear what the audience is desperately shouting at the screen, and all the pieces just come together perfectly.

 Today I came closer to falling down the basement steps than I have ever come before. I was carrying a big plastic tub full of games and overbalanced on the second step down. I quickly caught myself and maneuvered the rest of the way down the stairs, and as the moment passed I could feel the audience sigh in relief and murmer, “At least it wasn’t Theresa.”

  Maybe I should start wearing a red shirt…

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