Reflections from the Kitchen Sink on Repair

It was a simple repair. Put a button on the pair of khakis for my younger son, Cameron. Isn’t it strange how a simple task can send you on a little train ride just like Mr. Rogers did back in the day? My train ride had a couple of bigger stops. Both were worth the 15 minute repair.

Now I know what you’re thinking. Fifteen minutes for a button? You have to consider arthritis and depleted vision don’t help when one has to thread a needle. Mr. McFeely wasn’t there to help me either! No “speedy delivery.” Add to this fun a certain Schnoodle called Lola who literally has her nose in everyone’s business, and you’ve got a special kind of problem.

Back to my train ride…

I remember watching my mom repair things with a proud precision. I was always amazed by her skill. I can’t hold a light to her needlework; however, I did take full capture of the need to not be wasteful and to do things to the best of my ability. Those are lessons even Mr. Rogers surely shared in his neighborhood.

We live in a disposable society. Something not working just right? Throw it away and get a new one. Find a small hole in a blanket? Throw it away and get a new one. Button fall off some pants? Throw them away and buy new ones. I just can’t take hold of that philosophy. My philosophy? Save and buy the best quality you can then make it last!

The second stop on my train ride through my heart’s neighborhood was a quick flashback to my late husband’s worry about my darning socks. He had come in from work, and I was parked on the couch with a few things repairing them. Again, it wasn’t with my mama’s skill, but the repairs were extending the lives of those pieces. Michael questioned why I was putting so much effort into fixing the pieces. I shared the story about my mom. While he listened intently, Michael struggled with my unwillingness to not just get new things. For him, it was a pride thing. For me, it was a pride thing, too, though. That was way back in the early days of our marriage. It wasn’t too many years later he told me he appreciated my frugal nature. He never quite pieced it together for himself, but Michael did opt to let me handle most things as he trusted my instincts.

It is there that my train looped back to Mr. Rogers’s living room. I could have lingered a bit longer, but it wasn’t the time for that. I’m at the start of grief year five now, so I find I have a little more control of my mind some days. That’s part of healing I guess. And, yes, the pants were “healed,” too. I starched them right after. The smell of starch made me hear the train’s bell and think of my granny’s pillow cases, but I had to put that journey on hold.

Isn’t it amazing what can happen in just a quarter hour? Enough that it’s time for a refill of coffee and a shifting into the next part of the day. I surely love my little rides into my heart’s neighborhood.

Until next time…

Bio-Melinda Campbell is a retired educator who currently focuses her efforts on raising her two teenaged boys, advocating for individuals with special needs and against drunk driving, and serving in her local community. Melinda has been gaining recognition for her writings labeled “Reflections from my Kitchen Sink” since the tragic death of her husband Michael in 2015. In her stories, she shares observations from her daily life including moments she has as a solo parent, a widow, and a woman who battles significant health issues including fibromyalgia and depression. BIG ANNOUNCEMENT- New Kitchen Sink Merchandise-Click Here?

This is a Blog Hop-Please link up and leave a comment. Do you “repair” your clothes (or mend them-as my grandmother used to say)?