#55 About that dress

The formal mentioned in blog #54 has turned up in an essay, a poem and a blog. It truly has stood the test of time. Made of heavy white textured satin. Huge red bow. Simple lines. I decided to have it dry cleaned about 45 years too late, and wrote a poem about my thoughts while getting it ready (had to remove the bow). I wrote this about a year after Mom died and was missing her. It is supposed to format in the shape of a Christmas tree, but I'm not sure how it will work in an Arial font.

Preparing
an Old Christmas
Formal for Dry Cleaning

I wish I had hot coffee.
I wish I were more nimble.
I wish I had done this sooner.
I wish the light was brighter here.
I wish I hadn’t broken my fingernail.
I wish the needle eye weren’t so small.
I wish the stitches weren’t so tiny and tight.
I wish I asked why Mom knew the Charleston.
I wish the scissors were sharper and more pointy.
I wish I’d been more grateful for her time and effort.
I wish I’d done this ten years ago before my tri-focals.
I wish I remembered what we talked about during fittings.
I wish dry cleaners did formal dresses with big scarlet bows.
I wish I knew if she thought the dress would last for fifty years.
I wish I’d paid more attention when she tried to tell me about life.
I wish I knew what she thought of while she sewed the dress together.
I wish I were willing to create formals knowing I would not be dancing.

January 16
2001