In a partial answer to a question posed in this blog a while ago, MoM did knit. In discussion with my father, he told me that she had knit a pair of argyle socks for him before they were married. I smiled and nodded in understanding, for I had knitted a cable vest for my husband before we were married. He still wears it. The lifespan of a vest is 30 years, not so with socks. I don't remember ever seeing them. Socks with worn through holes are not something that you keep as a sentimental treasure.
At the family meal, we gathered at a long table. I sat at one end. K, who married my nephew, was at the other. It was only when we were getting ready to leave that I realized she had pulled out her knitting. She was working on a hat from yarn that a friend had dyed and spun. It was so luscious, I could have eaten it with a spoon. Dear K, I regret not being able to spend time sitting-and-knitting with you.
Last night, J, my stepMoM, brought out two knitting bags. She talked of her desire to continue a project she had started. New members being added to her family required new Christmas stockings.
The last knitter was J's mother who had died in 1972. Her bag had many treasures including the blue fuzzy sweater shown. I held that sweater and gazed upon it, in sisterhood, knowing that each stitch was knitted with purpose and love.
The story of the sweater will continue.
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