I visited my 90 year old Auntie May and she admired the woollen top I was wearing. I pointed out the hole I had in the sleeve. Soon we were comparing holes in our knitwear.
“I used to darn”, she said. So did I; I used to love darning. We don’t do it anymore. Why? We didn’t speak of it.
Maybe her eyesight has deteriorated to the point of making the work impossible. Maybe at 90, a hole is not worth worrying about.
My jumper was given to me by an old friend. That’s why I still have it even though it is fraying at the seams. I don’t feel I could give it to the op-shop, so I keep wearing it as it is.
We held hands and smiled at one another. Auntie May and I, each comfortable with the holes in our jumpers.