A long time ago, my mother offered me leftover fabric from a dress she made for me when I was young. It was meaningful to have because it wasn’t a dress I exactly remembered so it served as physical proof of its existence. It occupied a similar head space as family photos; the way photographs serve as evidence of places and people in our past. It represented a memory of dress, made even more meaningful because my mother had sewn it for me. It was an a-line sleeveless dress that I want to say I loved, but really, I don’t remember. Many years later, when my mother was suffering from dementia, I returned to the fabric to work on a memory piece. It was now not only about my memory of the dress but also about my mother losing her memories. I stitched a black panel to the floral print, covered the original panel so I couldn’t see the floral pattern, and began to embroider the pattern of flowers from memory. I covered each embroidered flower as I went. What you see is the result of that process.