Christmas in June

Little sweetheart, I have so long treasured your last Christmas present to me - the beautiful black leather jacket you gave me that December morning in 2010.

I've worn it almost every day since, even in quite warm weather and, sadly, the jacket had been showing signs of it. There had begun to be quite dramatic damage and tears to the leather particularly under the right arm. I'd been thinking about taking it somewhere but wasn't sure where to go.

When I was last out in NorCal seeing your parents, I told your mom about it and she thought maybe it could be patched, but when I actually showed it to her she thought it was too far gone. I'd very much underestimated its damage when telling her, I guess, because I didn't want it to be so. I stood there in the kitchen and cried and cried. But I didn't completely give up.

I looked up leather restoration places in NYC and found one that had been in business since 1930, and had really good reviews, over on Lexington Avenue. I sent them pictures and they told me to bring it in. Even they were shocked by the damage that looked worse in person than in photos. The woman there cautioned me that it was a very big job and would probably require replacing both arm panels. She asked if I'd ever wear it as a vest. That's how bleak things looked.

She could see how upset I was. I should've taken it off whenever I started sweating, I said. And I should've brought it in at the first sign of damage. But the lady was very kind, "you didn't do anything wrong", she said. "I'm not even sure we have this kind of leather, she added, but I don't know, let me see."

She went into the back and I felt like when you're at the doctor's office and waiting for the test results. She returned with a big piece of fabric. "We do have something!", she said. It was black and soft leather like your jacket. She said it was pigskin. Did I want to leave it and think about it over the weekend? It was 4:30pm and they were closing until Monday. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to call your mom. Finally, a bit lost, I said, okay, I'd leave it and think about it.

When I got home I told your mom. And I decided. There are so many things I can't change, little sweetheart. Things I would do anything to make right. But I can't. They're out of my control. But at least I could do this. I could try.

That was three weeks ago. Yesterday I got an email from them saying the jacket was completed, that it was beautiful and that she thought I would be thrilled. I walked over there this afternoon and it was true. The jacket is saved. It's perfect. No one would ever know there had been the slightest damage. They replaced both arm panels and it's impossible to discern they weren't the original. The lining is the same as it was but also completely mended without a trace of errant stitching. The cuffs have been redone and reinforced. And they treated the leather over all.

It's miraculous. Just like you, my miracle girl. I sent pictures to your mom and she agrees. I'll be more careful with it from now on but it is a treasure forever, as are you. Thank you, my love. Like Christmas in June.