It is no exageration to say that we live in a completely "disposable" society. Remember when mom used to wash out ziploc bags and dry them over the kitchen faucet? or save and reuse aluminum foil? I gasp now to think about it. With paper plates, and swiffer dusters, disposable diapers...shoot we don't have to reuse a thing! I can remember when old socks became dust clothes, and washing out dirty diapers in my earliest babysitting jobs was par for the course. I find myself thinking that many products like clothing, and furnishings, and well, just about everything are made to be disposable nowadays...just not made to last for long.
When John and I were first married, he seemed shocked that I threw out a pair of his holey socks rather than mend them like his mom (mother of 12) would have done. I laughed and said...the only darning I'll do is when I throw them in the trash and scoff "Those DARN socks have a hole in them!" He didn't much see the humor.
As mom to 10 now, my thinking has changed slightly over the years. You see, having this big family has done many things for me, not the least of which is foster a keener awareness of the value of a dollar, and how far we can stretch it. Don't get me wrong...there are times when I'd rather throw an extra 10 pack of socks in my Walmart cart, than sit and take the time to darn socks...but sometimes, time wins out. Other times it has nothing to do with money, but about the effort and love that goes into it.
Tonight Sam was gearing up for his tournament baseball game. He walked through the kitchen with his game shirt tucked neatly into his belted baseball pants; hat just so; tall black socks; a total look that said this boy means business...except wait...what's that?? A big toe peaking through the end of his sock, and about to be tucked into his cleats. (sound of screaching brakes!) Hold it right there!! I asked him if I could fix them for him...it would just take a couple minutes. He grinned from ear to ear. "Really? You can do that?" he asked. Of course, I'd be glad to. (okay, so I briefly cursed under my breath about the fact that this single pair of black baseball socks cost more than the 10-packer of white sweat socks from Walmart...and that they just don't make things to last nowadays. But, I digress.)
He pulled off one sock, and in just a matter of minutes he had a mended sock that could corral even the wildest big toe. All the while I stitched, little Lucy watched and asked "Why mom? Why?"
"Because we love Sammy," I said.
"And darned socks means love."