Butterfly Love

Dear mom,

I know it is a parent's instinct to turn all their child's flaws into loveable traits. But after washing and mending my overalls for the 5th time that week you had to finally admit, I was troublesome.

The beautiful Saturday afternoon sun was filtering through the tree behind our house into my bedroom. I hated being grounded. It wasn't even my fault! Those boys had paid me five bucks to climb that tree, I didn't know there was a sparrow nest there. With an angry sparrow mama.

I heard the sound of your sewing machine from your craft room. I knew you were mending the new hole in my favorite pair of overalls. The shadow of a butterfly passed over the horse trading cards I laid out. Confused I looked up towards the window. Right. You thought I loved butterflies and made me mesh curtains with embroidered butterflies. I groaned falling to my side. Butterflies are so girly, and I'm not girly.

The sewing stops. Sitting up I looked to my bedroom door. Scissors snipped, footsteps approached. My yellow bedroom door is covered in butterflies that you and I painted. "Alright Jin." The door opens. Your fiery hair is pulled back into a ponytail but a few wild strands refuse to summit. "I have finally patched the last holes in these, and look," you held them up, "I even found these cute butterfly patches. They are just perfect to hide all the seams"

Your face lit up, outshining the spring sunlight. I try to mirror your look of excitement. "Oh my gosh mom, those are so cute. Thank you."

You handed them to me. "I hope you will be more careful and not rip any of them off, but if you do I can sew it back on. Well go ahead and try them on." They were cute, and looked adorable with my pink butterfly shirt. I hated pink, I hated cute, but I smile, you loved it. "Awe, you look beautiful. Stay right there while I get the camera!"

Dear mom,

It didn't snow. I almost wish it had. My hand drifts over the butterflies we painted 5 years ago. I wonder how long it will take for all your little touches to fade. Dad didn't do cute, he did work. He always did work.

Auntie looked at me funny when I placed a little butterfly patch in your casket, but your friends knew. They even gave me a little river stone to paint a butterfly on, to leave at your grave. I don't know if I will yet. It feels so wrong to be creative without you here. We did these things together, but I guess I will have to do it eventually.

Dear mom,

Auntie said that you would be rolling in your grave if you saw us now. She disapproves of dad's new wife. She said, "Your mother hasn't even been in the ground for a year and he is already looking to replace her."

But dad just said that Auntie is too traditional. I don't know what to think. His new wife is weird. Her children behave like hostage victims, you know that the younger one bit dad today. She full on zombie nommed his arm and took a piece of flesh. While rushing to the ER step mom yelled, "How dare you hurt my husband!" Something about it seemed off.

She also didn't like my overalls, they are getting a little small but I still wear them. She called them childish. Next week we are going school clothes shopping, I'm scared she will make me throw them out. I wish dad and his new wife would just leave.

Dear mom,

I tried to fit into those overalls today. It must look funny watching my fat, teenage self attempt to pull them on, they wouldn't even pull up past my thighs. I'm sorry, in my attempt I opened one of the holes you sewed over, and one of the butterflies fell off. I tried to sew it back on but it looks weird.

Dad is really into motorcycles and got me a denim vest. He said it is biker culture to sew patches on to represent your personality. With it he got a few patches things like a bomb, playing cards, and the German cross. Since I can't wear the overalls I was going to sew the butterflies onto it, but it doesn't match my style, I also don't want to ruin the overalls. I guess I will have to let go of them eventually anyways.

Dear mom,

I got into college! The college campus is far from home but that's fine since dad and his new wife kicked me out anyways. While going through my things I found the denim vest covered in your butterfly patches. It doesn't fit me anymore, and most of the butterflies are faded but if I mix them with other butterflies patches they could look cute on my back pack. Or another jacket. I haven't decided yet.

In the pile of my old junk I also found your body pillow, the big blue one you got when you shared a bed with my brother and I. Dad wanted to throw it out but I took it with me so ha he can, well you know. My sewing professor said she can help me turn it into a quilt for my sewing final. It will make a cute present to my brother, he misses you more than either of us will ever know.

Dear mom,

I was telling the story of how you loved butterflies. The person I was talking to is a mother, the entire time she had this strange smile on her face. She thought it was a beautiful story. We started talking because she thought the butterfly jacket didn't go well with my black grim reaper t-shirt.

When I got home and went over the story again to myself I realized, you didn't care about butterflies. You were just excited that I loved them. It could have been anything, even horses, and you would still have had that same enthusiasm. Thank you for loving me like that.

Love, your daughter.