It would have been easy to toss the taped up, crumpled box, but I resisted. I tore edges and ripped tape, sure I wouldn’t need to do anything other than peek in the corner before I took it to the back of the truck for a dump run. The first thing I saw was thick bent wire wrapped around a wooden rod, keeper of wool pants and pencil skirts, and worn smooth from years of use.
Tucked underneath the wires was a scrap of fabric, barely visible from the ripped box corner, and my curiosity got the best of me. I tore the box the rest of the way open, and dug down deep to pull out soft navy fabric with tiny white flowers, a ruffle on the bottom and an edge of denim. As I pulled the garment the rest of the way, rescuing it from the dump, I realized this was far more than a scrap of fabric. This was a dress, made from her scraps of fabric and embellished with lace, ribbons, and denim. The denim had been taken from an old pair of overalls, “Big Mac” fully exclaimed on the back galluses, and replacement buttons on the front. The lace, embroidered pieces, and flowers were strategically placed but still random, appearing in no pattern but knowing my mama, they covered tiny holes, and imperfections. The row of roses along the top spanned the width from button to hook, dancing along merrily, adding color to otherwise drab denim. I have never seen this creation before. As I think about how close it came to being part of the dump run, I am emotional with loss and grief. I am overwhelmed with the connection to lace, ribbon, floral borders, and denim that leaps from one generation to the next. And now, I have this creation in my home, waiting on my soul to decide how to carry it forward, and let it leap to the next generation when it’s time. with Glitter & Grace, Sasha