The Tailor's Daughter
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The Tailor’s Daughter
I stand in the quiet seam between who you were
and who you are becoming,
watching morning light settle across your hair
like a soft nap on fabric waiting to be cut.
You move with the ease of someone
who has outgrown the pattern I once traced—
chalk lines fading, the edges yours now,
not mine.
Your dress waits on its hanger,
an applique of years layered gently
over the woman you have become.
I run my hand over the bodice,
feeling the small tensions of stitching—
the backstitch that anchors the fragile,
the dart that shapes what must hold its form,
the binding that keeps every raw edge from fraying.
I think of the work behind such things:
a bobbin spinning beneath the surface,
unseen but essential,
feed dogs guiding the cloth forward
even when the hands above hesitate.
So much of parenthood is like that—
quiet machinery beneath the moment,
moving you along even when I feared I was failing.
There were days I used only instinct,
trying to gather the loose threads of our lives
with clumsy fingers,
trying to mend what I’d torn
with apologies like darning stitches—
visible, imperfect,
but meant to hold.
Sometimes I used a seam ripper
on my own stubbornness,
undoing old patterns,
remaking myself for you
the way a parent must when their child begins
to see them clearly.
Now you stand before the mirror,
facing yourself,
not me,
your sweet pursed buttonhole of a smile
just wide enough to let joy pass through.
The aisle awaits—
a long hem of steps folded into a future
I cannot tailor.
But pride rises in me, sharp as bias cut on the diagonal,
stronger than any fabric pulled taut in the moment before
the needle descends.
And as you walk toward a life stitched now
with another pair of hands,
I feel the last thread pull free—
not breaking,
just releasing—
so a new garment of your days
can begin.
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Shared with the DVerse Poets keeping me in stitches.
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<3 <3 <3 Chris, a keeper for the special folder.
ReplyDeleteExcelent writing... to describe parenthood like this is perfect... the ending bittersweet , but there is no other way.
ReplyDeleteLillian here....writer of the prompt and pub tender for Tuesday Poetics. This is EXQUISITE. I was teary-eyed when I finished reading this. Yes, it's written from the perspective of the father...but it can be words from a mother as well and that's why I'm teary eyed. You've used the terms so well within the writing that you'd never know there was a prompt. Truly, if you have daughter who is getting married, and there is a reception where you must toast the new couple, I think you should read this! At the very least, even if your daughter is already married, you must share this with her. I just can't describe how on the mark this is.
ReplyDelete"the feed dogs guiding the cloth forward
even when the hands above hesitate."
And these lines.....you've captured what the feed dog does on the machine...many don't understand that and use the terms in other ways but here....I can see and feel the hands hesitate in the emotional pull of this.
THANK YOU. I plan to print this, with your name on it, and share it with my husband and my son. Hope that's okay. You should think about trying to publish it!
You are absolutely right, it should be neutral. I've made the edits.
DeleteWhat a beautiful and stunning write. You write from the heart and this pierces the heart.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDelete"quiet machinery beneath the moment,
ReplyDeletemoving you along even when I feared I was failing."
What a profound and perfect description of parenting.
A very moving piece.
Heartfelt! So creative ❤️
ReplyDelete