I sewed my first shirt on, I guess, March 9, because that's the day before I uploaded the photo you can see here. My aunt unknowingly inspired me to sew. When I really started sewing she sent me fabric through the mail.
Aunt
03.13.08
A brown package from Washington,
where you live these days,
full of color on the inside—
All kinds and textures of fabrics
and an old table cloth with painted
red, blue, yellow, green flowers
and brown swirls.
This was my favorite. It made me think
of you.
I wish I knew you more, my mother’s
sister whom her friends don’t think exist.
The elusive, whimsical, fleeting aunt
with crazy curly bleached blonde hair and red
lipstick and white flowing shirts contrasted by weathered
tan skin speckled with freckles.
She would tell me stories of you cutting
Up bed sheets late at night and creating things.
You were cold in the winter, but you had cute clothes.
I wish you hadn’t run away
To Cabo with your boyfriend—
Bob? Mike? Tom? I can’t remember which one
they all blur together now—
Leaving behind your kids,
your family,
eventually me…
your little niece who loved her auntie.
You came over to babysit me and my blonde
pigtails once.
You put Barbie dolls on the ceiling fan
And we watched them fly when you flipped the magic switch.
You were magical.
You could make things disappear, like
Grandma’s silver engraved coasters
when I closed my eyes.
And you could make a quarter come out of your belly button—
If it didn’t get stuck in your bra.
You could fly away and disappear and reappear
and disappear again, too.
You were magic
then.
I grew up and never told you how much
I really liked you and wanted to be like you
And look like you
And act like you
And talk to you and hug you and spend time with you.
When I was three we spent a lot
of time together in the car while my mom,
your sister, drove you to your
A.A. meetings.
You would let me hold your shiny special plastic coins
and I lost the red one, the last one, in the backseat of
the beat up gold Honda accord and we never found it
and we never took you again either.
I didn’t understand then, but I get it now.
You can’t teach me how to sew because most days
you can’t sew a straight line anymore.
So I learned from your sister, my mom,
And I use the fabric you send every once in a while.
But I could use you a lot more, you know.
To teach me magic tricks.
I made myself a shirt out of that old
Table cloth you gave me.
Someone asked me if it was for sale,
but I said no, maybe another one.
It’s imperfect and funky and it makes me
Think of you.
I grew up to be a lot like you,
Even without you.
Finding comfort in things we both love—
painting, sewing, beauty.
Things some people just don’t see or feel
or understand.
You know,
I could have understood you better than
that hard empty glass.
Easter was fun...we spent Saturday night filling up water balloons for the kids (Quinn, Nolan, Gavin, Chandler, Cameron, & Connor)--and adults. My fingers are raw and still slightly blistered from tying--between Marion, Chandler, and I--over 600 water balloons!
Sunday we all came home from church, put bathing suits on over our shorts and tank tops and blasted each other with balloons. My arm still hurts from throwing so many. I woke up the next morning with a kink between my right shoulder blade and everything! hah 
The water balloons were gone in about 10 minutes between all of us pelting eachother...but it was fun and worth it and a great new tradition. 
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