I remember learning to sew. You were so patient, teaching me to stitch seams on the machine and to hem by hand. Zippers were out of the question too hard for me at eleven years old, but I did manage buttons and sash ties. I remember getting so frustrated one time – I couldn’t make the terry cloth shorts work; I’d sewn the wrong pieces together and I was in a crying fit about having to rip the seams out.
I threw the lime green shorts down and stormed off to my room, burying my head into my pillow. You didn’t follow as I expected you to do and it taught me that if I were going to succeed with anything, I had to learn to deal with mistakes along the way. Sure, it taught me to pick up the pieces when they fall apart at the sewing machine, but it transferred to other areas of my life. Now, when mistakes happen,, I plan a course of action, get out my seam ripper, and work on fixing it.