My stepmother came to my graduation using an exact copy of the last dress my mother sewed to me before she died… but I didn’t know what would appear on the kara screen
But he went on.
Stitch for stitch.
Until it’s finished.
The last time I tried it in front of her, Mom stared at me without talking.
“What’s going on?”
He smiled as his eyes filled with tears.
“Nothing.
He approached and accommodated a part of the skirt.
“I’m just trying to imagine the woman you’re going to become.
Eight days later, my mom died.
For months I couldn’t touch that dress.
I kept it carefully.
Sometimes he opened the closet just to see it.
It wasn’t clothes.
It was a goodbye.
Six months after the funeral, my dad surprised us with news.
He was getting married.
The woman was named Shirley.
And the worst thing was that I already knew her.
I was friends with my mother.
I didn’t understand how they had gone from sharing memories about Mom to talking about marriage so quickly.
But my father seemed happy.
And I was too tired of losing people to start another war.
Shirley moved into our house.
At first it was kind.
Too kind.
Then the little changes started.
A picture of Mom disappeared from the room.
Then another.
“I’m reorganizing,” Shirley explained.
A box of mother’s clothes was donated without asking me.
Her favorite cups disappeared.
A perfume that still retained its smell as well.
There were fewer and fewer traces of her.
And there was something even more uncomfortable.
Shirley couldn’t stand looking at me for too long.
One afternoon I heard a friend say to her:
“The girl is very much like her mom.
I saw Shirley squeeze her jaw.
I had the same eyes.
Some of his gestures.
Even the same way to smile.
And little by little I started to feel that Shirley didn’t want to just take a place in our house.
I wanted us to forget who had been there before.
Three months before my graduation, I began to get too interested in my room.
We should organize your closet.
“It’s okay like this.
“You have too many things.
Several times he offered to clean it while I was in school.
One afternoon he even insisted:
“Go out with your friends. I’m going to use a strong product to clean and I don’t want you to be breathing it.
Something seemed strange to me.
But I thought I was being paranoid.
Until the night of my graduation.
I pulled out the blue dress.
I held it in front of me.
For a moment I remembered Mom’s hands passing the cloth through the sewing machine.
I put it on.
When I looked in the mirror, I cried.
Not because I was sad.
For a few seconds I felt that Mom was still there.
“I hope you like the way I look,” I whispered.
Shortly after, Gary arrived.
He was my partner.
Easy.
Smart.
The kind of guy I heard before I spoke.
When he saw me, he stood completely still.
“Is that bad?”
“No.
He smiled.
I don’t know what to say.
I laughed.
“Then don’t say anything.
And during the first part of the night I was happy.
We dance.
We took pictures.
My friends asked me about the dress.
I said to them,
My mom did it.
And every time I said it, I was proud.
Until the side doors were opened.
Some parents started to come in.
I was talking to Gary when I heard several murmurs.
I turned.
