Priceless Torn Socks

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Let me start out with saying I have four boys. It has been my experience that brothers borrow and fight over clothes just as I have heard sisters do. Possibly worse.

This particular pair of socks entered our home about 4 years ago. An item that my son “J”, who was ten at the time, got on a shopping trip with his grandma. He loved these socks. Little did he know just how special these socks would become to him.

My sons older brother “C”, my second born, who was 15 yrs old at the time, decided one morning to borrow his younger brother socks for school. Knowing the answer would obviously be no if he actually asked to borrow them, he just skipped doing so.

Somehow throughout the day one of the socks got ripped. This was more than likely a result of “C” trying to stretch them on his foot because, in reality they were too small. However, they said Abercrombie on them so them suckers were going on.

When “J” learned that “C” had worn his socks and ripped one of them he was furious. As you can imagine, an argument started over borrowing things and taking things without asking. Normal behavior between brothers. Daily.

I tried sewing the torn sock up. A few times actually. I knew how much J loved them. I also knew, being a single mom at the time and trying to raise 4 boys, that I would not be able to replace that brand. Regardless, the stitch never stayed. Maybe it’s because it wasn’t meant to and only God knew at that time how precious that would be.

On August 16th, 2015, “C” was murdered at the age of 18. That’s a story I may share another day on another post but I will say that..

There are no words to describe the pain that comes with losing a child. There are also no words to describe the pain that comes with helplessly seeing your other children hurt so deeply for their sibling. Wishing you could take on their pain along with yours is something you pray deeply for. It’s excruciating hell. All of it.

“J” and I have talked about these socks a lot. We’ve laughed while remembering how mad he was over “C” wearing them and tearing a hole in them. “J” has mentioned on many occasions how he wishes “C” was still here to argue with over a pair of socks. We’ve talked about how crazy it is to think that, at the time, you would never believe a pair of socks would become an item you treasured.

My son still has these socks. I’m sure he always will. I’m not sure why the socks were never thrown away. I’m not sure how they’ve stayed matched for 5 years and how at least one of them hasn’t been eaten by the dryer.

They occasionally show up in the laundry, a sign they have been worn, a sign that J don’t care about the rip, a sign that C was being missed more than usual.

If you see someone wearing a torn pair of socks. Don’t judge them. It could be their lucky socks they refuse to part with. It could be the only pair of socks they own. It could be one of the few things they have left that reminds them of someone they loved.

Or..

It could just be my J missing his brother.

 

 

 

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​​​*This post may contain affiliate links. See affiliate disclaimer.