“Mom, we can buy one.
She denied with her head.
“Dresses you can buy thousands.
Then he smiled.
“But this one I want to do it.
Some nights I sewed just a few minutes.
Other times he had to stop because his hands were shaking.
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.
