William Morris sees me still tackling projects that were lurking half forgotten in my laundry room. Pitiful, I know! My friend Chris emailed me asking, “How big is your laundry room?” I think she was picturing a gymnasium, but it really isn’t oversized, just over full.
This week I am working on a stack of mending that has been waiting a very long time for my attention. There is something meditative and soothing about mending. If I had remembered this, I might have worked on this project sooner.
I stitch a while in silence and become suddenly aware of the rush of my breath as I exhale in a sigh. Mothering requires so much mending. Just as fabric catches on something sharp and unexpected leaving a long, jagged slash in the cloth sometimes my words catch the feelings of my children. At times my words are clumsy and convey not at all what I wish they had. Sometimes they leave us temporarily torn apart.
One can’t be clumsy when one is mending. One has to focus on the tear making sure the stitches pull both sides of the divide back into one. Small, gentle stitches are required so that the repairs are not visible, so that the fabric doesn’t remain puckered and marked like an ugly scar. This requires attention to detail, that intentional care be taken. It can not be done in haste. No matter how hard a person tries occasionally some of the stitches will still be evident after the repair. Not all tears can be completely hidden. But if one is diligent in her stitching that reinforced patch may become the strongest place in the fabric.
We are at the age of altercations with my 6 year old and I swear I spend the morning damaging (inadvertently) and the afternoon mending. Love your analogy.
Started mending yesterday to keep myself planted in a chair so my son could have a little space from my wisdom! lol
I’m impressed with your commitment to mend something rather than replace. I have a basket of things that need to be mended, but really have had no intention of doing so. I think I just put them in the basket to feel better about myself. Maybe this year will be the year I really learn how to sew. Apparently, finding a permanent spot for my sewing machine and organizing all the necessary supplies doesn’t actually lead to physically sewing something. Here’s hoping
You made me laugh with the mending basket to boost the self-image! Apparently, that is all mine has been for the past several years. The stuff in it was dusty!
“Just as fabric catches on something sharp and unexpected leaving a long, jagged slash in the cloth sometimes my words catch the feelings of my children.”
oh my, this post brought tears to my eyes as I am in the middle of mending a broken spirit with my son as I yelled at him recently. This is what I needed to read, to add to my bank of knowledge to handle everything differently going forward.
Thank you for the uplifting words!
I must have been reading yours as you read mine. And thanks right back for the encouragement!
This was as gentle and as soothing as the mending process itself. I chuckled at the mending that was picked up to give your son space from your wisdom…oh the strain it can be. This analogy will surely stay with me and quiet me…thank you!
I wish I had discovered this outlet earlier in the teen years! All our clothes would be ship-shape by now.
What a wonderfully profound post! I so need to watch my words and tone more often – not only with my daughter but my husband too
I am certain I would not have had the skills to tackle the lace. So impressed!
Both the lace work and watching my tongue can only be termed “a work in progress”!
May this was so beautifully written. I’m stitching all the time – well not all the time but always seem to have 2 or 3 projects going on – I love to quilt and embroidery – so I related to your analogy so well. And I still, of course, am mother to my 4 children – even though they’re out of the house. Mending is still needed as I learn patience and my new role (stepped back a bit) as they move into adulthood. I chuckled at your comment about giving your son some space from your wisdom. Funny, dry humor. Love that.
Yes, life gives us the opportunity to sharpen that with, doesn’t it?! It takes some practice to do that stepping back as they grow more and more independent and competent. I don’t always get it right.
I give you soooo much credit. I don’t think I could focus my attention on something so intricate that requires such accuracy. I think that’s why I love graphic design – I can put the lines wherever I want them to be. Or why I prefer cooking to baking – I can throw in dashes and pinches of anything and not ruin a highly anticipated cake.
Your words and pictures are so beautiful. I really enjoy your blog.
Well, we will see how this turns out! I am now working with bifocals which I find limits me to spurts of activity because my eyes get tired more quickly. I should have mended this when it first needed it, but I was busy with my babies. You know what that is like!
My husband wears his socks to utter holey-ness and I don’t mean spiritually. His size 13s just can’t be contained! When I’d comment on his pitiful holey socks he’d tease me and ask why I didn’t mend them for him. If I really LOVED him I’d mend them,he’d say…so not long ago I did just that. And it’s funny, but all the teasing about it really covered a little part of him that wanted to know that his needs matter to me. It made me think of so many things we mended in our relationship rather than just discarding the whole thing and seeking something new. I love your way with words, May, and I love how your posts make me think. Bless you!
I think it is a real blessing how lives parallel one another through the ages. We each have our own challenges and stumbling blocks, but we have commonalities in our needs and what we find we experience over time in longterm relationships. That is what makes the sharing so wonderful and provides us with a sisterhood.
What a beautiful metaphor.
Thank you….I am still learning mothering after more than two decades.
Mending is a lost art – at least in my house.
I remember my mother fixing so many things — darning socks. Miss that.
There is real comfort in the small everyday tasks that suggest home and love.
I’m afraid I don’t have those mending skills on either front — but perhaps one of these days I’ll acquire them. There’s certainly something satisfying about returning something valued to use.
Skills that take patience rarely come easily…at least not to me!