Nora was standing barefoot in the sand, squinting in the sunlight and raising one hand toward the camera because she wanted me to stop taking pictures.
She was wearing a turquoise cover-up.
It had been made especially for her by my mother.
The Tiny Yellow Sun
Earlier that spring, my mother had sewn Nora’s initials into the inside of the bottom hem.
N. V.
During the first day of our beach trip, Nora accidentally caught part of the fabric on a piece of driftwood and tore it.
My mother repaired it herself.
Instead of simply closing the tear, she stitched a small yellow sun over the damaged area.
The stitching wasn’t perfect.
The little sun was slightly crooked.
When Nora saw it, she laughed.
She told her grandmother that the cover-up looked ruined.
My mother smiled and told her that the imperfect stitching made it unique.
Nora touched the yellow thread and eventually admitted that she liked it better that way.
