Unraveling

My mother knit a scarf and hat for the Evil Genius a few years ago.  Bright green yarn shot through with other vivid colors.  When we had the Great Mouse Invasion of the van the next year, the rodent gnawed on them, leaving holes.

Such a thing can be repaired, but Mom found it easier to simply use the last of the yarn to make new ones.

I still have the old ones.

They'll never be the same, even if I could mend them, but even full of holes and slowly coming undone, I can't bring myself to toss them away.

I cling to things.

Even when they're gnawed, worn, falling apart.

Unraveling.

But sometimes...

Sometimes...

Sometimes  I DO let go.