Tears on a new pair of pants

 I think there is a reason some words are homographs, like the tears, and tears.  Often the tears we have are from tears of the heart.  In this case, the tears are from missing my mother.
My mom has been gone for 2.5 years. She died from a ATV accident on the farm.The ATV rolled and it crushed her liver. She died in the hospital after they were unable to stop the bleeding. I miss her more than words can say. Time doesn't heal but time does allow less crushing grief.  Most days I think of her at some point.  I don't cry every day, but some time the events from the day will bring the tears on. Usually the events these events are really a small event. Yes, I miss her on birthdays and holidays, I miss her for "important" things. I cried hysterically when I gave birth to my daughter, so much that the Dr. asked if I was okay. My mom will never meet Cadence Louise (my mom's name was Louise), on this earth. What often brings on the tears are the seemingly minute day to day events.  Those moments are what make me miss her the most.
A couple years ago, when I turned 30, I froze corn on my birthday. I cried that day, not because I missed my mom on my 30th birthday, but because I couldn't call her and tell her I had froze over 100 cups of corn. I know how to do this because she taught me.
Yesterday I cried over a pair of pants.  My oldest son, Zorryn, has recently hit a growth spurt. He needs new pants, but he is still skinny. All the pants I can buy that are longer, are also too large in the waist and just fall down.  He doesn't want to wear jeans, which have the adjustable waist, but only wants "comfy pants".  To solve this problem I resorted to a skill that I haven't used since high school. I am sewing him pants.  I took home-ec in high school so the skills have been learned and I still sew quilts, but I have not sewn clothing in many years.  The vital piece of information in this post, is that my mother was an excellent sew-er. She taught home - ec and taught me how to sew. Growing up, many of my own cloths were lovingly made by my mother. My graduation dress from Grade 12 was made by her. 
As I started this project for my son, I was wishing I could call my mom. Ask her so many questions; would this pattern work for this fabric? How do you finish the edge? Can I make them a small but with the length of a medium? AND the most important question; If what I make doesn't turn out, could you make some pants for your grandson? Of course I could not ask these questions and no pants would be showing up in the mail. I HAD TO DO THIS AND SUCCEED!
Long story short, I pinned, I cut, I sewed, I tried them on the boy, he liked them and wore them to school today. He was happy and proud of me. I was sad and proud of me.  Now that the project was finished and I had succeeded, I wanted to call my mom and hear her say "good job, I knew you could do it. Aren't you glad I made you learn how to sew".   And so, in a round about way, my son got a pair of pants from his grandmother, and because of that there were tears on the new pair of pants.