Tomorrow, Dec. 7, is a date remembered by most Americans as the day Pearl Harbor was attacked.
In my family, with all due respect to those who made the ultimate sacrifice for our country, the date is also remembered for another reason. It's my younger sister's birthday.
Tomorrow, she is faced with her first -- her first birthday without hearing from our mother. Only three weeks after Mom passed away, my birthday rolled onto the calendar. I intentionally ignored the day, hoping that would be my coping mechanism.
It didn't work - at all.
So, for my sister, I'm hoping she throws herself into a celebration of her life - a life given to her by Mom (and Dad, of course); a life charmed by a childhood that really wanted for nothing; a life filled with talents resulting from the seeds planted by Mom.
My sister is amazing. She is the single most talented seamstress I've ever known.
I sew.
My sister is a seamstress.
Big dfference.
Like our mother, my sister has made clothes for her two daughters that rival the best designers in New York and France. I'm not kidding.
When her daughters were toddlers, my sister created one-of-a-kind, hand-smocked dresses embellished with handmade laces. I'm not sure, but I think I even remember her designs being featured in a children's clothing catalog. Anticipating seeing my sister's latest creations on her daughters, she gave us another reason to look forward to holidays. She continues today, making curtains, pillows and other home decor that would sell for hundreds of dollars in any boutique.
Look at my beautiful mother! And, how cute are my younger sister and I in our matching dresses made only by Mom? It's funny, I don't actually remember seeing my mother making our dresses; she must have done most of her sewing while we were sleeping or at school. But I do remember each of those special occasion dresses painstakingly made by her. Both my sister and I can tell you exactly what we were wearing at nearly any given moment in our lives. I loved these red and white checked dresses, but my favorite was our green sleeveless dresses with matching capes. Absolutely no one else had anything like them.
The roller coaster took a huge downward spiral today. So, when I got home from work, I thought I'd make some holiday pillows from fabric Mom and I had bought only weeks before she passed. I thought it would help me. The Plan (again with The Plan) was that I'd make some fun and funky pillows to put outside on the front porch, so why not?
I did it! They're cute, aren't they? They are exactly what Mom and I had envisioned, and between thinking about my sister on the eve of her birthday and making these pillows, it was just the therapy I needed.
Thanks, Mom, for teaching me how to sew when I was in the fifth-grade.
Happy birthday to my little sister. I hope it's a celebration she doesn't soon forget.