Sweater Weather

Auntie is coming to visit soon.

She used to live in a tiny apartment, but in the past six months she broke up with her man and bought herself a new, bigger home. She also bought a Peloton and has lost a significant amount of weight.

The change in size, paired with the expansion of her closet, means she is wanting her clothes back.

I try to keep my clothing-library checkouts to one season, but I’ve held on to this particular sweater for three now.

It doesn’t fit especially well, and it isn’t really the right color. It has also caused me a disproportionate amount of trouble for an otherwise innocent piece of knitwear, wreaking fashionable havoc on my life. The people I live with don’t particularly like it and have been known to complain aloud when I choose to wear it. There is, objectively, very little reason to keep the thing. If I’m honest, I’ll be glad to be rid of it.

But before it goes back to its original owner and takes up residence in its new, roomier closet, I wanted to make one more memory in it. A good one.

So I’m thankful for Auntie’s timing. Not just because it’s sweater weather, either. Any sooner and I think I would have been too tender. For something so soft, she managed to become something that only chafed, until I was raw. I could barely look at her for a while, much less put her on.

I’m so glad she and I got one last romp with the very best of company. I spilled sugar on her sleeves, right next to my heart, although I tried to be considerably discreet with that.

And then we went for a diverting walk to the park. It was a lovely day.

Maybe that was all I wanted from her in the end—not to undo anything, or pretend nothing happened or that it didn’t hurt, but to give the memory some company. Something warm and ordinary to sit beside it.

I’m sorry for all the trouble.

I’m grateful for the lessons.

And I’m looking forward to making more memories in new sweaters. What do we think about chunky knits these days? Could use a new writing sweater...