Grateful
Monday November 23rd 2020, 12:01 am
Filed under: Family,Knit,Knitting a Gift,Life,Lupus

President Nelson, head of the Mormon Church, asked that we talk about what we’re grateful for, and trying to squish it all into words seems kind of overwhelming.

In no particular order: waking up every morning in this life.

The faith that requires that I be my best self towards all others in order to honor what I’ve been blessed with.

The doctors and nurses and blood donors and medical researchers and volunteer research guinea pigs all the way to the housecleaning staff at the hospital–everybody who helped save my life.

My family, in a million more ways than I could ever convey. So much love.

The fact that my three nephews who got covid survived it; a cousin’s working on it.

And this is going to sound weird, but…my lupus, and the Crohn’s that piled on nine years later. Because of all the ways that it constricted and confined my life: after reading Norman Cousin’s book, “Anatomy of an Illness,” I knew I needed a creative outlet and the smocked baby outfits I’d been embroidering were right out–my hands couldn’t hold that fine of a needle without intense pain.

I was at the library with my little kids one day and Kaffe Fassett’s Glorious Knits about fell off the bookshelf into my hands. It was that two-page spread with the models in those fabulous coats in an amaryllis field in the Netherlands that got to me–you know I love amaryllises. I could never in the world make anything like those designs with dozens of colors but I checked that book out again and again till I finally gave up and bought a copy.

That was the turning point. Turns out, my hands could knit. Thank you, Kaffe.

I had basically given up knitting in college when I couldn’t afford the yarn nor the time. I made up for those missing dozen+ years, I would say.

I made his Carpet Coat (“These are large but they drape beautifully on everyone”) and when I got done my husband glommed onto it and told me, “It fits me better than you, go make yourself another one.” I did.

And then I met Kaffe Fassett. I’m pretty sure he ducked to come through the doorway, just like my husband does. Richard’s coat has 68 different yarns, I collected more skeins to make mine 86 because if he was going to nab my coat mine was going to outdo his. I went with the large split triangles pattern.

And then a teen some friends were raising in foster care loved them, asked about them–“Mohair. MO hair. What kind of animal is a MO?”–and I felt in my bones I had to make him one. A vest, so as to not worry about the fit or running out of my leftover yarn, but, a large part of me argued within that I can’t possibly knit for every single person who admires what I do! I’d never stop!

Tim’s happily married with children now and his wife still wears that vest all these years later. Fits her better now.

But that project was an inner barometer: when I felt generous it was what I wanted to work on, complicated or not, and when I was getting wrapped up in illness or just too down to cope with it I had no desire to. I began from that to learn just how much better I could make myself feel by applying happy anticipation to my stitches towards someone else’s happiness. It made the lupus less–devouring. I don’t know how else to put it.

All the things I’ve made, all the privileges of being able to share what I can do–none of that would have happened had my circumstances been what I’d planned on. I was going to get my last kid in school and then go back to work. But for so long I was just hanging onto life by my fingernails day to day with my illness.

But I could knit in happy anticipation of seeing the look on someone’s face, I could make love tangible, and I can’t tell you how many times that has helped make the difference.

I’m so very grateful for every member of my family, too, but that would be an encyclopedia rather than a blog post.


6 Comments so far
Leave a comment

I am so grateful to know you. To laugh together at silly things, harrumph at injustices, and, most importantly, to knit.

Have a Happy Thanksgiving, my friend.

Comment by Anne 11.23.20 @ 12:56 am

And I’m grateful for you. You know your sister Marian describes you as “a very sick woman who sings through life.” Thanks for the songs. Love, Mom

Comment by Mom 11.23.20 @ 8:34 am

I didn’t know that was how you got (back) into knitting! Very cool. You spread a lot of happiness around you, my friend.

Comment by ccr in MA 11.23.20 @ 10:57 am

I don’t think I could count the number of people who are grateful for (and to) you. Even the ones who only saw you the one time you gave a finger puppet to their child.

Sometimes we need a reminder to speak our gratefulness.

I am grateful to you for sharing so much of your life and talents on this blog. Blessings on you.

Comment by Chris S in Canada 11.23.20 @ 4:15 pm

I don’t think it sounds weird. A generous spirit is grateful for the good in something, even something that also has a lot of bad. And, in your case, that spirit knits that good up and shares it. I’m grateful for your example and your friendship.

Comment by twinsetellen 11.23.20 @ 10:49 pm

I spent a week in the hospital in October with a severe bowel infection. 4 days after getting out, I woke up one morning and called my daughter to tell her, I have Covid. Sure enough, and luckily, she did not. I was not real sick with the Covid, just no energy mostly and now playing catch up. so I am grateful.

Comment by Sharon Stanger 11.28.20 @ 4:44 pm



Leave a comment
Line and paragraph breaks automatic, e-mail address never displayed, HTML allowed: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>

(required)

(required)