7.27.19 Saturday
Dear Jane,
Whenever I open our closet, I see the blush colored lace dress that I was to wear as your matron of honor for a wedding that never happened– a reminder of all the happy memories that I thought would be a given but now will never be.
Another dress you bought for me is the little black dress I’d tried on when we were shopping together. It was about ten years ago, and you were helping me to find a dress for Esther’s wedding rehearsal dinner. You picked it out, just like you picked out the other dresses with a swiftness and confidence I lack when I shop. The dresses didn’t appear to be my type nor were they the kind I thought would look remotely good on me, but somehow you knew.
The black dress took me by surprise; it made me look attractive in a way I didn’t realize I could look. In the end though, I chose the conservative gray dress that looked more appropriate for work since Tim’s parents wouldn’t approve of the deep v-neck of the black one. Also, I was in my first trimester then, so I thought it would be a bit impractical.
I traveled to Seattle for the wedding and when I came back, I had the miscarriage. I was devastated. In the midst of all the sadness and disappointment, I unexpectedly received a package in the mail with a note from you that said something like, This dress looked so good on you, and everyone should have a little black dress. It was the black dress I had tried on with you, the one that I never would have had the courage to buy. I knew you were telling me that I could wear it now– that even in loss, I can dress up and be good to myself. It was my favorite gift, Jane. It made my heart so full.
A pink dress and a black dress hang side by side in my closet, both reminding me of you and how you’ve inspired me to see death as not the end of life but as a part of life that can lead to more life.
Love, Mijin
mijin kang 