Tonight I mended some of my clothing. While I was doing this, I remenbered how I used to be opposed to fixing anything that broke. Even my favorite shoes, when they broke, I’d throw them away, get them out of my sight ASAP like a contagious disease. I believe I got to be like this through a combination of impatience and the fact that my darling mother, who used to mend my clothing when I was a kid, took up to six months to make even the smallest fix or alteration. She’s never been one to hurry my mama, on anything. I got back into the spirit of mending through dating someone who actually has a sowing machine, fixes and resuses. Handy he could have come in tonight.
So, I reflected on how far I’ve gotten, how my patience and tolerance have grown, how there are actually things and relationships I’d rather mend than part from, how certain things are worth the patch. Here’s to mending and to taking care of.
