While helping my mother clean out her storage space, we came across some knitting needles and a set of crochet hooks. These belonged to my paternal grandmother, who is in her 90's. Her struggle with Alzheimer's is almost through, so she obviously no longer knits or crochets. Here is what I am the proud owner of:
As a child, I would visit her farm and watch her crochet in the evenings after all the chores were done. She would patiently take me on her lap and help me "crochet." Well, to be honest, it looked like a big string of knots and barffed up yarn. Yet, she kept encouraging me, telling me my work was beautiful. She saved my creation. That piece of "art" was on display every time we came to visit (believe me, it was ugly!). After a few years, it quietly went away. But the memory of that time she and I spent together is on display in my heart every day. I couldn't tell you what we made. I can tell you how soft her lap was . . . how safe I felt with her arms around me . . . the aroma of her perfume . . . the comfortable homey feeling she gave . . . these are very vivid. How lucky my Pooh-Bear (father) was to grow up in her home. I love my Gram.
Isn't it funny how some sticks and string, when worked together with someone can make such lasting memories. Sometimes, I think it's not about what we make, but about who we go through the creative process with. That special someone at that special time to make the whole world melt away; creating a piece of work or memory that can last a life time. It blows my mind to think of all the relationships that have emerged or grown stronger through knitting (insert your craft or art of choice here).
I keep trying to teach soccerchica how to knit, bead or do something crafty. I guess it's my way of trying to make a difference or memory for her to hold dear - a memory as dear as mine. Only time will tell.
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