Family Resemblance
Chris, an old high school friend, sent this blackmail material photo this morning. Either he or his wife Jane, my best friend in high school, took it during an all night band trip bus ride. The picture revealed something precious I hadn’t noticed before – a resemblance to my daughter, Anne.
For one thing, we have the same pout. It’s not a feature I was particularly eager to pass on to her, but since she looks and acts more like her dad’s side of the family than mine, I’ll take what I’m given. But it’s the smock, not the pout, that reminds me of Anne.
In high school, I sewed most of my clothes, including the smock, one of my favorites, in the picture. Thought I don’t sew much anymore, Anne does. During Easter Break, she sewed up a storm in her bedroom, which looked like a tornado had hit. Scraps of calico, buttons, and snippets of thread littered the floor and crept into the hallway. By the time she went back to college, she’d finished a dress, most of a skirt, and cleaned up her mess.
Sewing is a greater delight for her than it ever was for me. She finds pleasure not only in her own handiwork, but also in what others have made. When she discovered a stack of my old creations stashed in the cedar chest, she was ecstatic and added them to her wardrobe. The smock, which I wore out, wasn’t among the treasures she unearthed. Too bad. She would have looked sweet in it.
Unless she was pouting. Then it would have been blackmail material.
