because she followed the pattern, and she was always
in control. People at church and other places would
give Mom their left over wool. She had bags and bags
of it. I inherited those bags of wool.
to do with myself. I went to the storage closet and
hauled out all those bags of wool. It was all tangled
up together, a daunting sight to behold, especially
for a knitter. For the next month or so, each time I
came home from visiting her until I went to bed, I
untangled and sorted that wool into tidy balls with
matching colors. I hoped that the time might come
when once again she could take it up and start knit-
ting again.
what I was saying, with a questioning look on her
face. I told her and the look in her eyes said it all for
me. Her face literally lit up and I could see the relief
in her expression. She put her hand over mine and
said just two words, "Oh, good." That's all she said,
but it meant the world to her because in those two
words I had, in her mind and mine, removed the
tangles and made life a little easier to accept.
She died shortly after that.
wool with me and continued Mom's
knitting to help pass the time while
Rob and Amy worked and the chil-
dren went to school. I tried over and
over and I just could not get it
right. Finally I had to set it aside.
Following my trip I added it to
the rest of the wool in my stor-
age closet. Every time I need
something in there, I have to
remove those bags of wool. I
am apparently not ready to
knit it together, nor am I ready
to get rid of it.
gether in your mother's womb.
I knew you!"
in my mother's womb, I can rest in
the fact that He knew me then and
terns, sickness and death, loss and grief. He knows
how I feel about Mom's wool, and He knows when I
will be able to knit it together. When that time does
come, He will be with me, cheering me on, encourag-
ing me, watching over me. Mom will be with him, a
smile of contentment on her face, happy that the
wool is sorted out and in good hands. Hands that
will, like hers once did, turn the wool into something
that can be used and enjoyed by others. Until that
time comes I will continue to remember Mom. I will
continue to drag those bags of wool out of the closet
when I need something in there, knowing that she
lived a full life and is now at rest. The way I will re-
member her best is envisioning her sitting in her
chair or on the couch, knitting.