The Button

While I was in the gym, getting back into my street clothes, I popped the top button off my shirt. I felt it happen and was able to retrieve it to sew back on later.

I knew I had a sewing kit at home--I'd gotten it as a free gift when I'd purchased something else--and I even managed to find it easily. I open my sewing kit and discover that there is no thread even close to the color of the shirt.

An online search turned up the right color, but it would cost me $8. That's ridiculous, but I didn't have time to run to the store. I ended up buying another sewing kit and this one did have the correct thread.

I finally sat down on Friday evening to put the button back on the shirt. Threading the needle went well, but I ran into trouble after that. The knot I'd tied in the thread pulled right through the waffle weave fabric. It took a minute, but it finally occurred to me to double the thread. That worked.

But as I struggled to remember how to tie off the button, I thought to myself, You've sewed buttons on before. Why are you having so much trouble now? When was the last time I'd sewed on a button?

That's when it hit me. I probably haven't done a button or any other kind of sewing since maybe junior high school age. Because I hate sewing and have a patience problem with it, I'd always taken anything that needed sewing to my mom and asked her to fix it for me. I don't lose buttons often, but I'm certain this is what I did from my early teens onward.

And then I spent the evening sad. Even though I lost my mom more than three years ago, little things continually pop up and bring it all back with force. Like with a simple button.