We mend so that something of value to us, whether it be a relationship or an object, can continue on and function. When I was little, when my grandmother visited us the first thing she did after greeting us was ask, "Where's my mending?" And of course my mother was only too happy to oblige! I grew up spoiled by this and haven't been much of a mender myself. My attitude, however, has changed greatly as I've journeyed along with Jude Hill.
I buy my clothes at the Thrift store and it's a challenge to find long-legged pants that I like. I wear them until they're translucent and showing the occasional hole. This pair of much worn and much appreciated pants will continue on with the help of a large patch.
It occurred to me that I may never have to buy a pair of pants again - I can just keep adding patches. As I started to wonder how I might appear over time I remembered something from my childhood.
In our neighbourhood was an elderly woman who wore patched clothes, an old coat, always carried bags and held long conversations with trees. We were afraid of her and called her Witch Hazel, something I now feel sad about. I suddenly thought of myself in my patched clothes, old coat, carrying bags of seaweed back to my garden, stopping to chat with my favourite trees. Ha!