A Good Run

These ski pants are old. I found them 38 years ago in a basket of winter gear in my then soon-to-be husband’s house. They had belonged to his ex-wife, the one who was the mother of his youngest child. She was tall. I was short. She dove off huge sail boats into the lake. Appearances really mattered to her. She left the pants when she left her husband. They sat there for about a year before I showed up. She ended up living with a doctor up north, one who was irritated by her son because he reminded him too much of her ex-husband, the one I was with. I raised that son for a while. He was a good kid. My husband eventually became my ex, but we parted on lovely terms. We loved each other but were just two different to make it work. The pants had silky stirrups at the bottom. The pants themselves were black polartec fleece. They were formfitting and flattering. I loved them. I took them with me when I left. I’ve worn them for years through all kinds of metabolism shifts. They always seem to magically fit. Eventually I cut off the stirrups to resize the pants for my shorter legs. These days the inseams are looking a little dusty high up, but they’re still holding firm, and no one notices expect me. Recently, I hemmed them because they were getting a little frayed at the bottom. They turned out a little on the short side but still definitely wearable. I’m going to cut the beautiful, black and white cuffs off of a pair of extra long socks and sew them on the bottoms of the pant legs. These ski pants are a wonderful reminder of all the good parts of my former relationship. They also remind me to make my own joy.

Cinse Bonino
2023