The threads in my life


When I was small, the fabric of my life was my family

The warp and weft; my parents providing the strength for others to add to

As I grew up there were other strands added, some making the warp and weft stronger

The parental threads diminished, eventually vanishing. They left the gaps but the pattern of the weaving was still there.

The loves, providing new body to the fabric.  A tear where one love ripped himself out of my life, a weakness where another became less important. A hole where one died.

It’s all part of life, gathering the new threads, losing others.

Many people are not a part of the structure of my life, they simply add the extras, the embellishments on top of the structure.

I have lost 2 of those in the last week. Nothing to shred my life’s stability, but diminishing its excitement, maybe leaving a little gap for a chilly breeze to sneak past.

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25 thoughts on “The threads in my life

  1. nice metaphor
    Sometimes the lost thread returns in a different guise, I discovered that some I thought gone had become part of my inside furniture, no longer the upholstery, now in the frame of who I am. The baddies are in there too – to be watched in case I trip over them. Sorry for what you have lost, thanks for writing about it so generously that we can all link to something rich.

    1. Thank you for the kind words.

      As you get older you realise that although you can make new friends, those whose friendship spanned decades actually can’t be replaced – there just isn’t enough time left

  2. Thoughtful and poignant, Sidey. I feel the truth of this piece.
    Thank you.

    John

    (flippantly, I, too have lost threads and gained others as an engineer.
    Starting with Imperial threads, then Unified threads, and latterly metric threads. Hope that brings just a small smile)

      1. Yes, Sidey. I used to design radio receivers, but younger and probably better qualified engineers came along.
        So I switched to radio systems, but my first love was always the receiver – and still is, really.
        John

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