More mending required

I’ve been surprised by mending.

I’ll start the story by saying that when I wrote my January column about mending, forgiveness and Louise Bourgeois’ spider sculptures, I did not expect it to be a personal prediction. I didn’t expect much of January at all. Despite the new year, January can drag on like an old cold, and I tend to stay close to my writing desk, a hot water bottle on my knee for coziness. But this January, my local wool shop was hiring and I decided to toss my toque in the ring.

The shop is owned by a mother-daughter team and sells knitting wool, needles and all the bits and bobs crafty folk require. They were looking for someone knowledgeable who could be flexible about hours. As I’ve been making woolly things for as long as I can remember and had some spare time, I was delighted with the job offer. A new year’s surprise.

A well-loved sweater

Mainly, the shop has been quiet in these winter days, and I’ve been helping grandmothers choose patterns for this coming spring’s babies. But last week, an older man came in and asked for mending wool. He pulled a sweater from a tattered canvas bag and set it on the counter. It was pure wool in a warm oatmeal shade with a patterned yoke in greens and oranges.

“Something pale and strong should do it,” he said, confidently. He shook out the sweater and showed me the hole in the front, where four or five stitches were missing. “I pulled the ends tight, though, and tied them together.”

I could see the knot. I could also see the threadbare cuffs, the frayed ends of broken stitches. The elbows looked thin, too.

He told me his mother had made it for him years ago. She wasn’t alive anymore, but the sweater was still good at keeping him warm in the winter. He wanted to make it last a bit longer if he could.

I asked him if he could knit. He shook his head.

The right wool

Now, I should say that the shop doesn’t usually take on repair work. People do ask, but it’s specialist work, and we’re not that kind of place. But this time, I couldn’t say “no.” Partly because we had a very good match for the wool, partly because I wanted to try, and partly because so much these days feels worn, and this was a bit of mending I could manage.

I’ve been living with his sweater all week. I work at my kitchen table under a bright light where I can see clearly. I’ve duplicated the worn stitches to strengthen the elbows and filled in the hole on the front. I’m still reknitting the second cuff. When I’m finished, the sweater won’t look new, and the repairs won’t be invisible, but the fabric will last longer because of my work. And I’ve found a way to add a little more softness and warmth to the world, a little more comfort and strength.