My Sweater and I Have Something in Common

I bought this sweater second hand about four years ago, drawn to its chunky buttons letting me

expose my shoulders as little or as much as I want. It’s the first cashmere sweater I’ve owned and I’ve

come to learn that wearing cashmere against your bare skin feels like snuggling a baby llama.

This sweater has seen me through a lot.

It was my covid uniform as my kiddo and I spent day after day in our tiny downtown apartment. My

unwashed hair tied up, I wore it as I sipped cup after cup of hot chocolate chipping away at a memoir still

in progress.

I’ve come to turn to it every time I need comfort. Its softness counters anxiety’s jagged edges.

I used to mend any small hole as soon as I’d notice them. I was keen not to let them get big.

But today I wear its holes with pride. Just like me, my sweater has battle scars. It’s been a hard (and

beautiful) few years.