- by Jody Johnson
I'm sure everyone must have that one piece of clothing they are reluctant to throw away. It doesn’t matter if it is full of holes, or tattered and ripped beyond repair. It may no longer be worn or used to adorn but is now safely kept in the back of the closet or in the bottom of a drawer, filled with memories and kept for sentimental reasons.
My green sweater is just that – well-loved, well-worn, and well ... torn. It has been in my possession for almost 30 years like a piece of history – emblazoned with the emblem from the 1993 International Plowing Match and Farm Machinery Show held in Bruce County that year. In 1993, I was eleven years old, living the life of a farm kid on my family's beef farm, located in the middle of nowhere – well, somewhere, smack dab in the middle of Desboro, Keady, and Chatsworth.
I don’t really remember how the sweater came into my possession, but I have not let it go. For several years, this green sweater was on my back, living its best life and doing everything I did. It could turn cartwheels, ride a bike, climb trees, and roll around in the grass. Honestly, the only time I wasn’t seen wearing it was probably on laundry day. It took a lot of coaxing, and maybe even a pry bar, to get that sweater off my back. After the weekly sacrifice, I mean, washing ceremony, I would immediately slip it right back on so it could enjoy many more adventures. Honestly, I felt naked without it!
That green sweater went everywhere and did everything. As it aged and matured, more tasks and responsibilities came its way. The sweater was quickly recruited to help fix tractors and farm equipment. I mean, not like it or I knew what we were doing, but I would be the one to run and get the tools and parts required to fix the haybine, the baler, and whatever else was broken. In case you didn’t know, I can be quite handy and resourceful. So, besides the usual dirt and grass stains the sweater encountered on the regular, there were now grease and oil stains to contend with. The phrase “in like a dirty shirt” seems very appropriate. But that is not the worst of the dirt it encountered. I could tell you it was involved in helping deliver newborn calves at three in the morning. The sleeves used to wipe the sweat off my brow or the muck off my hands and arms. But who cares about the slime and mess when you get to experience a newborn calf in its first moments of life?
The green sweater found other ways to help out around the farm, and often got into some dirty situations. During harvest time, it would be stretched beyond its shape to become a potato sack to carry all the new potatoes freshly dug out of the garden. It was also handy to help carry firewood, and rocks - because stone picking is a rite of passage for any farm kid. What a real, hardworking farm hand!
During the down times of farm life, those infrequent moments of rest and relaxation, the green sweater was still hard at work creating entertainment as a cat toy. Its long sleeves left dangling, it would attract the barn cats to playfully claw and bite, pulling a few threads here and leaving a few holes there.
With the kind of love and abuse it endured, the sweater became more tattered, thread bare, and full of holes. I’m pretty sure I even dragged this sweater away to college with me, not because I was still wearing it, but due to my hesitation to part with such a fine garment. It remained a security blanket during the moments of being homesick and missing the farm.
The green sweater has been retired for many years now. It now lives in the very bottom draw of my dresser. It sits there, somewhat nicely folded, reminiscing or maybe even suffering nightmares about the old days and the many adventures I forced it to endure.
I recently dug out this classic specimen to show to my family. My 12-year-old daughter couldn’t figure out the appeal of a tattered and faded piece of cloth. My request for her to try it on was immediately met with a wrinkled-up nose and horribly disgusted face. You know the face! But this sweater holds so many memories. It has seen and been through a lot with me, and its scars, like mine, are clearly visible. Now, as I hold it, the old sweater still feels so soft and full of life. Though I’m afraid to ever wash it again as it may very well disintegrate in our washing machine.
Who else has a piece of clothing that has so much history and love attached to it? Clothing is the tapestry of our life and a way to tell our story.
