I sat on my bed, fingering a red piece of cloth. It had pink poodles on it with hearts hovering above their heads. I looked over the pink stitching. It was gaping and untidy. Tears welled up in my eyes as I remembered why.

Not too long ago, my aunt had confessed to me that she was the one who had sewn it so many years ago.

I was about six years old when I’d gotten a beautiful pink poodle teddy bear for my birthday. I loved it with all of my heart, so when my mom came up with the idea of making clothes for it, I readily agreed. We chose the pink poodle cloth, and then we went to Grandma’s House so that she could help me sew a dress.

My grandma had cancer. She was very sick at the time. I remember now, although I didn’t seem to realize it then, that her hands always shook. So when I asked her to help me, she would send me to watch cartoons or play with Jorge after only one or two slow stitches.

I suspected nothing. Every day when I went home, another line of stitches was done, and I was happy with that.

I gradually began to get bored with the dress. Work on our project became rare.

Several months later, my grandma died.

We never finished the dress.

Seven years later, I sat on my bed crying. My aunt had been in high school when she had sewn that dress for my grandma. She had been in high school when her own mother died. One of my uncles had only been sixteen.

I realize now that my grandma had been protecting me. She didn’t want me to see her suffering. I didn’t know she was dying. She had just been really sick until the day that God took her away. I wasn’t sad because everyone kept telling me that she was in heaven.

I miss Grandma. I think that we would have been really close if she would have lived. My family would have been a lot different. We miss her very much. I know that none of us will ever stop loving her and wishing that she could be here for us all.