One of the many things I love about this time leading up to Easter is the re-emergence of color as seeds sprout and flowers return to bloom. When I was growing up in East Texas, the dark wintertime evergreen woods began to dot with dogwood and redbud trees. Daffodils and narcissus and azaleas drifted across front yards. And little girls and their mothers planned Easter dresses! I am not sure the above photo was the Easter dress the year I was three, but it might have been. And it would most certainly have been made by my mother on her Singer sewing machine although I suspect the crocheted lace on that collar would have been crocheted by my grandmother.
Stitches in Time
at Christmastime I hang a wreath, braided circle of cloth
made almost half a
century ago from scraps found in my fabric stash
one strand of the braid is green velvet
bits left from creating a dress
with beaded cummerbund that circled my then tiny waist
a second strand cut from scraps of snow white brocaded cotton
my high school graduation dress
woven with the green
and white is red corduroy,
my first maternity dress
there would have been nothing left to make the wreath if not
for first
you,
the sewing
and the clothes.
I remember sundresses, circle skirts with petticoats, pleated
skirts,
tucked blouses, mandarin jackets, peter pan collars,
puffed sleeves, vests, and weskits
a squaw dress and a poodle skirt
all made after I helped pick a pattern
Simplicity, McCall's, Vogue
you even collected last year's pattern books
from fabric shops where we bought
yards of gingham, calico, organdy, dotted swiss,
eyelet, dimity, poplin, corduroy, worsted and flannel
I remember plaids, checks, polka dots and stripes
pin-wale, herringbone, and tweed
one of a kind made just for me
a red checked dress for a play
always a new dress for first day of school
pink eyelet with ruffles for my piano recital
black suit with red velvet bow for my ride
in the parade as a
duchess
school dresses and play clothes
Sunday clothes, Easter outfits, nightgowns
I remember prom dresses -
clouds of billowing scarlet chiffon,
net the color of hyacinths, shiny satin
pale pink organza, and creamy peau de soie
bolts of rustling taffeta and black velvet
sacks of heavy ribbon and lace
measured with a yardstick on a cutting table
in a shop that was more fun than a candy store
by then I could sketch my dress and it happened!
I remember hours you spent preparing cloth, spreading it
with tissue patterns, cutting with pinking shears
the love that bent you over the humming Singer
with its one tiny bright light
when you said “let's try this on” and tucked
at my waist or lengthened a hem
I don't remember smiling and saying “thank you”
I hope that I did
I did learn to sew
I remember when I
designed and made my wedding dress
you were proud to help me sew on pearls
I remember writing letters to tell you how my 3 little boys
played when I tried to sew
one standing behind me with his arms
around my neck
And when my granddaughter wanted a princess gown
we picked out a pattern and she helped me cut and sew
I remembered how you made me feel like a princess.
Sad only because you could no longer remember any of it.
Mary Ann Teal Parker
March 23, 2013
Written for my mother, Opal Auntionette Terrell Teal
who suffered from Alzheimer's the last years of her life,
and died in 2006, one
month short of her 93rd birthday