good dress

Amma's silk saree hung in my closet for years, unworn. The Tamil Brahmi patterns stitched along its border told stories I'd forgotten. When PaybookClub invited me to share family heirlooms, I hesitated. That evening, I wrapped myself in crimson silk, tracing each ancient symbol. My daughter asked what they meant. I realized I didn't know. So I called Amma. Together, we decoded the script, laughing at my ignorance. She smiled through the phone as I promised to teach my daughter next. Sometimes a good dress opens doors to who we've always been.