15 December 2014
Monday, 15 December 2014
I woke up this morning to find the other side of the bed empty. Shirley had another one of those nights when she couldn't sleep so she was up early. I laid there and tried a bit of mindfulness meditation, but wound up thinking about an incident back in December 1948. I had been in an automobile accident and the top coat I was wearing wound up with a large L-shaped tear near my right shoulder. My mother was working at Krolls, a women's wear store in Rochester, NY, so she knew all the seamstresses and tailors working there. Someone, I don't know who, took my top coat and re-wove the fabric so that the tear was invisible. That was truly the work of an artisan. In this age of automation and computer-driven machines, I doubt the repair could be made.