pour ma mere

my mother, and my mother's mother, taught me how to sew.

i am not (and never was) an easy person to teach how to do anything. i require a very wide berth for my, uh, "creativity," i like to do everything myself (even if i don't know how), i like to cut corners, and i like to make A LOT of mistakes.

as an example, i took piano lessons from various talented and hardworking individuals for over ten years and was a terrible piano student for every single one of them. i never practiced, i rarely listened, and i short-cutted nearly every assignment i was given. hence, i'm not a super great pianist. but i can and do play the piano and currently regale the ladies at church with a few hymns every sunday. i wish i could write each of my former piano instructors a letter thanking them for gritting their teeth and bearing it and proving that their time wasn't wasted -- while not on my way to carnegie hall, many, i think, would be shocked to learn that i turned out to be a competent pianist in any regard.

along those same lines, after finishing these mother's day dresses for my daughters and niece, i wanted to say to my mother (and grandmother), "look, mom! fifteen or twenty years ago, whilst painstakingly teaching me about pressing seams, cutting fabric, using the seam ripper, and dragging me to and from craft stores for yet another one of my hair-brained schemes, your efforts (like so many) were not in vain: look at what i can do!" 

from twenty-seven-year-old emily to the sweet mother of ten-year-old emily:

thank you for sticking it out.