My young adult friend Tina, who had known us and our children for several years, had a question. She had been paying attention as our nest had emptied with our youngest two children heading to college a year apart. “Virginia, are you really this happy or is this a front?”
I knew what she was thinking. Her husband had been our kids’ church youth minister. She had seen us enjoy them and their friends. She had seen the youth hurry to be first in line when “Big Al” served Oklahoma Dip for youth choir snacks. She knew cheap dates were renting a movie to show at our house. She knew the number we were feeding for supper depended on how many were there when we ate. I could guess why she would think we would have trouble adjusting.
I thought about my daughter Anna’s graduation dress that Tina had watched me put together and used it in my answer. Anna had looked through every page of the pattern book to make her selection and found what appeared to be the most difficult one in the book. She saw my reservations and said, “It’s okay, Mom. You can handle it.”
More than thirty years of sewing had not prepared me for this. Three skirt sections had to be cut separately. Would I remember to keep the right sides up? Would I catch the ties in the seam on the band of the dropped waist? What if I clipped the insertion when I slashed the fabric beneath? Could I keep the top-stitching straight and unobtrusive? The space for handling the stiffening for the cap sleeve was tight and awkward. Would it fit and leave the sleeve neat? The sleeve was fitted without a cuff, too tight and it would be uncomfortable – too loose and it would dangle.
The challenge was at once exhilarating and nerve-wracking. No whipping this dress up overnight. I worked carefully, checking each section as I went. Finally, it was done. It was beautiful, and so was she.
Anna in the dress paying careful attention to her grandmother.
“Tina,” I said, “Raising children is a lot like Anna’s graduation dress. You remember how I worried the whole time about how it was going to turn out. I enjoyed making it, but I was relieved when it was over. It turned out really well, but I wouldn’t want to do it again. I could say the same for raising my children – besides I still like Big Al.”
I ran across this piece I wrote before I had a blog. Tina and my children now have nests that are emptying. I’m hoping they also are enjoying the fruits of their parenting labors and perhaps in their futures will have the real reward of empty nests – grandchildren. I expect they also don’t want to do it again. And for the record, I continue to like Big Al.