A little story about Mothers who Knit.
I was in an op-shop yesterday.
Two 20’somethings bff’s were rummaging through the racks and one held up a knitted cardigan, colourful and bright. They had the same high pitched voice that had gone thin with excitement and joviality.
One of them picked up a cardigan from the nowhere -near-retro-cool-rack and said:
“I’ve got one like this at home”…little smile……”mum made it”
The other smiled and said:
“Have you?..What’s it like”.
“It looks like….Mum made it”…
And they giggled loudly, creating a vision of a very not-cool cardigan sitting at home in a drawer somewhere and sending out an image of a loving Mum knitting woolly things that her high energy, fast talking daughter has not really seen yet.
I wanted to tap them on the shoulder and say:
“I have a house full of things Mum knitted but she died recently and now they are even more precious than they were when she brought them around inside of her own knitted shoulder bag.”
And because I was on a roll, a sentimental roll which is like a snow ball gathering speed down a mountain of missing, I added:
“Love your Mum! She won’t be here forever… she can disappear in an instant”…
But of course I didn”t say anything, I just smiled in their direction because I know I am a newly bereaved daughter who is probably older than their Mum and they wouldn’t necessarily think my knitted iPad and keyboard covers, shoulder bags and pillows were very cool at all!
So when I got home I brought out just a few of Mums knitted and crocheted masterpieces and just hung out with them for awhile…
Mum kept us in stitches, literally and figuratively…..she was a clown who loved to play and a master Artisan who loved to create.
I wear that jumper she knitted herself and feel what it feels like to be wrapped in my Mothers love.