My
beloved mother-in-law, Miriam Miller Negahban, was not only a very kind and
intelligent lady but also a very talented quilter, knitter, and seamstress. She
passed away a year before Shahdi did, at age 81. One can find examples of her
artwork in every closet in our house. Actually, I still have several of the
maternity dresses she made me when I was pregnant with Arman. I have not
been able to part with them in the past twenty years because of their
sentimental value to me. For as long as these dresses are hanging in the
closet and the wool sweaters she made us are safely kept in tote containers
near them, Miriam Joon lives on in our home and our tangible link to her is not
broken.
When
Shahdi was in middle school, Miriam Joon made her a very pretty peasant dress out
of a hot pink cotton fabric. Like most peasant tops, the dress had
an elastic neckline which could be pulled down over the shoulders, an elastic
waist band, and a mid-length tiered skirt. It absolutely looked gorgeous
on Shahdi. At first, Shahdi did not wear this dress outside of the house,
but when she got older, it became one of her favorites. In fact, when she
left for Hawaii last September, she was wearing this dress with her black
combat boots, her long dark hair coiffed to perfection, her natural beauty
shining with excitement over the new adventure, her black backpack on one
shoulder, and her guitar case's strap on the other. She looked utterly alluring
and the dress could not have looked better on anybody else in the entire world.
One
night last November, we went to an outdoor Mexican restaurant in Cancun and
were greeted by a beautiful young lady in a traditional white Mexican dress.
She reminded me so much of Shahdi with her dark hair, red lipstick and pretty
features. She looked radiant in the white 'campesino' dress with the colorful
floral embroidery. After she seated us, I asked her about where to get a
similar dress for my daughter. She gave me the general directions of the
old market where I could find such Mexican artifacts. The next day, I went
shopping but could not find any dresses similar
to hers. It was not until a couple of days later when we went on an excursion
to the Mayan ruins that I was able to buy Shahdi an almost identical dress
from a Mayan street vendor at the historical site. I was thoroughly pleased
with my purchase and could not wait to return home to have Shahdi try
it on.
Regrettably,
a couple of days after I presented the dress to Shahdi, she passed away and
never had the opportunity to try it on. The dress is still hanging under
a plastic cover in a closet and I pull it out and look at it from time to time.
A couple of times, I was seriously thinking of giving it to someone else. One
time, I even took it off the hanger to take it downstairs to gift wrap it but
did not make it beyond the closet's door. I now have realized that I
simply cannot part with this dress because I had purchased it exclusively for
my lovely daughter, holding her image in my mind when I was selecting it.
Alas, what a pity that Shahdi is not around to try on this dress in front
of her favorite mirror in our room,
turning to the left, then to the right, checking herself from every angle, and
making sure her image was impeccable from all sides.
A while
ago, I read the memoirs of a medical doctor on his near-death experience and
his brief visit to the other realm. He had described these 'beings', who
floated around in the sky, as angels dressed in white.
The
image of Shahdi in this white dress floating freely and leisurely in
the sky is very soothing to me. However, this image only exists in my head and
will remain there for as long as I live.
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