A Stitch in Time

“Really? Really?” She said with tears in her eyes. “You would do that for me?”

“Of course, Mom. I’m happy to.”

The “that” in question was repairing the hem in a pair of pants. 

Mornings generally follow this pattern: I wake up first. I get myself together, make a cuppa tea, start work. I hear Mom wake up. It could be 8:30 am, it could be 10 am. I go upstairs, help her pick out clothes, and start her shower for her, making sure she has a clean washcloth and towel. Once she’s in the shower, I leave, still listening carefully for any loud thumps. 

We were at the picking out clothes stage. There was a pair of pants she wanted to wear, but part of the hem in one leg had come out. She was utterly distraught. Barely awake, she couldn’t seem to grasp the task of getting a needle and thread and repairing the hem. Which is why I offered. 

“You get in the shower, and I’ll have your pants hemmed and ready by the time you get out.”

She hugged me hard and stumbled into the bathroom. 

As I hemmed her pants, I pondered. Why was this the task that moved her? Why was hemming part of one leg of a pair of pants appreciated so much? More than buying a house. More than moving in together. More than going on daily walks. More than eating meals together. More than comforting her when she wakes up at 1 am, or 5 am, crawling into my bed, grieving Dad. 

There often isn’t much logic to our days now. But there is a lot of gratitude. Flowing both ways.

3 thoughts on “A Stitch in Time

  1. Oh Lori – you are such a good daughter. It goes to show, you never know what actions or sentiments will be most treasured or most meaningful. Maybe for your mom, her hem is an unconscious paradigm of “I’ve got myself together.” I doubt the metaphor is evident to her, but it’s a good one for us: parts of her life have unraveled. Thank goodness her good daughter is there to help mend so many broken pieces.

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