Filed under: Knit
I meant to get a picture. But I blocked it last night, ran the last end in this morning (I had a sudden moment of, aagh! I forgot the end!) while standing at the front door waiting for my husband to come dashing through late, and the camera just didn’t make it into the picture. But I got it done.
I knitted shawls and scarves for a number of friends in my congregation at church. It, um, kind of snowballed, till finally I decided I couldn’t leave anybody out, I was simply going to have to knit a scarf for every woman there who hadn’t gotten something yet. A large lace shawl, no, but a scarf apiece, 3-6 hours worth of knitting, that, I could manage. I’ve been at it for months now.
Back when we lived in New Hampshire as a young couple, 20 years ago, there was a family we knew well; Dora, the mom, was the Relief Society president, ie, the head of the women’s organization there. Two of their three sons were still in high school. Then we moved here, and their middle son eventually met and married Jenni, whose family lives here. Small world. Cool.
Now Dora has started commuting coast to coast, and we get to see her at church when she’s in town. So I asked her what color scarf she would like. Black, she said, emphatically. I don’t love trying to see black stitches on the needles, so I asked her if she was sure, or would she…
Black. She’d really like one in black. Okay, I thought, so, black it would be. Except, I had a harder time than I wanted making myself get around to it. I found a skein of Frog Tree black sportweight alpaca in the stash, and knew Dora would love that it had come from a women’s cooperative in South America. That was just the right yarn. So why did I keep putting it off, fer cryin’ out loud?
This past week, three weeks after I’d asked her, I finally sat myself down, and went, look. Just knit it till it’s done. Don’t go to bed, don’t let it hang over you another day, Just. Get. It. Done. And of course, as soon as I started knitting, the softness of the yarn running through my hands called out to me, making up for any color quibbling; ooh, this is so soft. This is so nice. I love this. Perfect.
It was 10:45 when I looked at the clock, then down at the work in my hands, thinking of Dora. Her son, who had been one of those who had come and visited and been there for me when I was in critical condition in the hospital three and a half years ago. Jenni, due to have a baby any moment. I don’t remember for absolute sure if that was the moment I finished binding off or not, but I do know I felt this intense sense of connection with them right at that moment.
We got an email from the proud new dad the next morning. A baby boy! Born at 10:45 pm, 9 lbs, 3 oz.
Black is not the traditional color for welcoming new life into the world, but it was definitely the right color to welcome the new grandma into knowing she was celebrated and loved. She loved it. Perfect.
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