Thursday, November 6, 2008

Knitting the pieces back together

I was going to wait to post about this, since this is a new blog and this is a little bit heavy and a lot personal, but I've been thinking about it more of late. So now is the time.

As most who know me know, my mother was killed in a car crash in July of 2007. My brother was injured. The other driver was drunk. She was only 54. She was in Wisconsin, I was in Seattle. I got the call from a doctor at the hospital and the world crashed down around me. As I waited for someone from the hospital to call me back, I tried to understand what this meant to me. She wouldn't be there to see me in my new professional life. She wouldn't be there at my wedding. She wouldn't call me on my birthday. And it wasn't until I listed "I'll never knit her that sweater for Christmas" that I really started to understand what this late night phone call had meant. The sweater was so tangible, so close to my heart.

Just over a month earlier, my mom had flown out to Seattle to attend my graduation from my Master's program. It was a whirlwind visit; we had a day on the town. We went to the Pike Place market, visited the Seattle Art Museum, had lunch at that restaurant that was in Sleepless in Seattle, and stopped by the Weaving Works where we picked out three hanks of Henry's Attic Alpaca from which I was going to make her a sweater as a Christmas gift. Something crew neck, probably with some simple cables. A warm, soft sweater. Like a hug.

Ravelry 044

I haven't done anything with it. I'm not sure what I'll do with it.
As I was going through her things in the month after her death, I found a gift I had given her a couple years earlier - yarn and needles. I had just started knitting and had learned that she used to knit. So I bought some pretty yarn and needles and gave them to her. She cast on as many stitches as would fit on the giant size 15 needles and started a garter stitch lap blanket. She hadn't finished.


I brought it home with me. Back to Washington state. I've knit on it some. I finished the first ball of yarn and started the second. But I haven't finished it. In a way... I don't want to. I feel like I might be losing something if I do. Her hands worked it, my hands have worked it. I know which parts are hers. I'm not ready yet to finish it. I'm not sure I ever will be.

Kathy - Athenian Inn, Pike Place Market, Seattle June 2007


Madam said...

What a wonderful post.

Things will always be hard in one way or another, but I am so glad that I get to know your mom through the things you write.

Veronica said...

::hug:: I hope that maybe someday you can make a sweater with that yarn.