The wool socks were a gift. Probably decades ago by now. I honestly don’t remember the occasion. Just the feeling of receiving them.
A humble pair of socks reminded me I was loved.
Tugging them over my feet on a cold day last month, I noticed a hole in one heel.
A shame, I thought. They’re too worn to wear. Care worn.
The wabi-sabi of textiles.
Save what’s useful. Mend a simple something that’s good and right and true and personal. Tend love.
Appreciation for darning guidance found in: make thrift mend by Katrina Rodabaugh