Apparently, afterward, she had gone home and started sewing.
I kept reading.
“I did not make it because I knew you would have a baby.
“I made it because hope needs somewhere to sit while it waits.”
“If no baby ever wore it, that would not make your life smaller.”
“You were never waiting to become enough.”
“But if one did come, I wanted that child to have something made before she was even known.”
I couldn’t read for a moment.
Mark took my hand.
Grandma watched me.
Her eyes were wet.
I continued.
“I finished most of it when I was 94.”
“Then my hands got worse.”
“I left the sleeve because I thought perhaps one day you could finish something I started.”
I looked at the unfinished dress.
“I’m terrible at sewing.”
Grandma smiled.
“I know.”
Everybody laughed.
That helped.
I went back to the letter.
“The other
