Knit Along: Stirrup Socks From Purl Soho - Day 5 | Author Allie Pleiter

Knit Along: Stirrup Socks from Purl Soho - Day 5

The needles don’t pin me down, they hold me up

Goodness but that took much longer than I was expecting, even with focusing on one sock.  I just found my original timetable, and this post should have occurred two weeks ago.  I love my life and my fabulous job, but I just wish everything were a little more predictable.
Knit Along:  Stirrup Socks from Purl Soho - Day 5 1
To my surprise, as I stared down at this taking-forever-but-worth-it sock, I found myself missing our days in the hospital.  Not having a sick son–I hope cancer never darkens the path of anyone in my family ever again–but the pure distilled nature of life in a hospital.  The simplicity of utter survival.  No one expected anything of you but to receive information, make a few decisions, and essentially just exist. As my son’s doctors told him, “Your job is to just lie there and take it.  We do everything else.”

Crises of the hospital inpatient variety involve a lot of downtime.  A lot of sitting around waiting for tests, procedures, doctors, even waiting for the other shoe to drop and disaster to come.  As I look back (it’s one year ago tomorrow that my son was admitted), I realize what a tremendous blessing knitting was to me in that time.  Knitting allowed me to be where I was, focusing enough of my attention on my son to be what he needed, but occupying enough of my attention that I managed to wade the edges of worry instead of drowning in it.  The progress I made on projects was a reminder the the world hadn’t ground to a complete halt, even when it felt like it had.  
People were impressed that I could knit.  People were impressed that I could complete a sentence, actually.  But there was only one horrid dark night where I couldn’t even knit.  The rest of the time, I HAD to knit to keep myself together.  A soothing project like the ribbing of these stirrup socks would have been exactly the type of project I’d crave.  
Looking back today, as I round the final corner–or stirrup, actually–of this sock, I say a prayer of thankfulness for all the yarn and needles in my life.  And the fellow knitters, like you, who wield them toward a more comforting world.
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