The bind off…in more ways than one…
The reason why you haven’t heard from me in over a week is that it has been a sad and hard week at our house. That ailing elderly relative I mentioned in my last post was my dear mother-in-law. She was wonderful to me, never making me feel like anything but the best thing to ever happen to her son. I considered sitting with her, caring for her, taking her to doctor’s appointments and such an easy task, because she had done so much for me. She passed away last week and will be missed by many.
She was a knitter, too. Not on my scale of passion, but enough for us to share the craft. She was much better at cables and bobbles than I. My skills at colorwork and lace exceeded hers. Still, knitting is never a competitive sport–it’s rather a sharing of skills. I have the sweater she knitted for my husband as a baby, she had a scarf I made for her birthday. We shared knitting like we shared her son–happily, gladly, generously.
I sat with her during some of her final hours; quiet, sad moments when she wasn’t really here and not yet fully gone away. I sat beside her and knit on this project, humming hymns to her, deeply aware that this pattern was the creation of another knitter’s late father. The world comes back on itself in so many ways, circling around to pick up stitches, making patterns we often can’t see until we’re much farther down the work.
And then today I gave away some knitting of mine to a member of the next generation, a young relative in for the memorial service. I gave her a hat I’d finished earlier but hadn’t yet decided the recipient. We all know the experience when you know–just instantly know–who should get that hat or scarf or shawl. It was a time of smiles and silliness and good memories. And I was reminded that the world comes back on itself in so many ways, circling around to pick up stitches, making patterns we often can’t see until we’re much farther down the work.
I say it all the time: Life is like knitting. Knitting is like life.