our lives. The knitting together, the following of a
pattern and seeing a lovely finished product in her
life, was just not going well. It wasn't turning out
right.
was breaking. My mom did not want her life to end
attack and a massive stroke. She lived for a while
but never did regain full use of her hands. Eventually
she could raise one of her hands and hold something
lightly; a semblance of her speech returned and she
could speak a few words. She went to live in a nursing
home, which was not an easy thing for her, or for us,
think about her is one of her sitting on a chair or couch, knitting. It was one of her favorite,
if not her favorite, pastimes and she did it well. She knitted for her children, their spouses,
her grandchildren, her great grandchildren, babies, preemies, and even the animal shelter.
Watching the needles go back and forth, in and out, and seeing the wool take the shape of
a garment was fascinating and calming.