One day, she called me and asked me to crochet 15 small flower motifs for the lacy pullover she was making for herself, saying that her fingers were all thumbs then. At first, I was reluctant, knowing that she was a perfectionist who was never satisfied with my work, but I gave it a try anyway.
My mother managed to crochet the pullover itself and sewed on it the motifs I had made for her. She liked wearing it that summer.
In November that year, she passed away, and all of her clothes, including the top, became mine.
this week's prompt: thumb