Mother's Work

I spend an inordinate amount of time in my life mending things that should probably be thrown out. I have a box near my sewing table where my family knows to put things that need to be mended. Tights with a hole, pants with no more knees, a dress that needs a stain covered up, etc. Some things are beyond my meager abilities and have to be taken to a professional. For example, if my husband were to completely rip the pocket off of his suit pants, that would need professional help. (I've quit asking how it happened. The man once broke a key in half while trying to unlock the car. He has special skills.)

There are some things though that never make it to the mending box. They are emergencies that require stopping everything to get out my sewing kit. These items usually come to me held in the hands of someone on the verge of tears. One big crocodile tear and I'm sitting down with an overly worn bunny to close another hole. There are a thousand other things that I "need" to be doing in that moment. But she sits at my feet, brushes away her tears, and waits for bunny to be healed. Past stitches run deep and are starting to cover the bunny's whole head. I'm told she wants black thread for the mending and a purple bow to cover it up. So I pull out the needle and thread, and I lovingly add another scar to the sweet, worn bunny. With the last stitch knotted off, the tears are gone and the bunny is carried away to the sweet child place of the worn rocking horse and the velveteen rabbit.

This is the work I adore. These are the moments that make my heart swell. To take a moment of my time and help to make the tears go away. To watch them run off happy and content and feeling loved. It's mother's work. And it is so perfectly fulfilling.