Last Sunday I finally saw her only as we were pulling out of the parking lot at church; Richard turned the car her way so I could ask. From the other side of the car I held up my needles and the stitches I’d done so far and asked her if she liked the color?
For who? she puzzled. It didn’t immediately sink in, and then she was stunned and overwhelmed: Oh, anything! Any color! Thank you!
She gave me a great gift in that moment. She gave me back that sense of, this is why I do this. To make people feel that loved. What all that yarn is supposed to be doing, not sitting around wondering what it wants to be when it grows up. About time I really got back into it!
And so I kept an eye on how long it took me to do the long rows, how many of them I was going to need to do to finish this thing, and kept at it till finally last night at about ten pm it was finally done and laid out to block. I wove the yarn ends in first thing in the morning.
And then I hedged my bets: I wore a shawl in a different color silk to give her a choice, and she duly admired it but knew I had knit that light pink silk one expressly for her and she’d clearly been hoping all week to see it again very soon. It was hers.
I can’t give back all that she’s lost in recent years, much less whom she’s lost. But I could give her a warm, soft wrap around her shoulders any time she needs to feel one there.
She just has no way to know how many more people will be blessed because her appreciation ran so deep. I know what knitting can do, I shouldn’t have needed that–but I did.