Friday knitting musings seemed like a good thing to do.
As I write this post, I’m very tired. I may knit tonight; I may not. I got up at 5:00 A.M. and drove to my son Rob’s house to watch the girls all day. He leaves for work by 5:30 and my DIL Lisa was doing a “two-day”; that’s overnight in flight attendant lingo. She flew to Houston Wednesday afternoon from Newark, then Thursday early flew from Houston to LA, then one hour later flew from LA to Newark. Then an hour or so driving home to Toms River.
My girls. My grand daughters. Julia, who will be 3 in May and Marisa, who is 16 months. She is named for her aunt Marisa, her mother’s sister, who died tragically young almost three years ago from a brain infection due to Tysabri, a drug for multiple sclerosis. In four short months, this vibrant young girl, only 32, went from living a life of her own to not being able to care for herself any longer. They say the odds of contracting this infection, known as PML or Progressive Multifocal Leukoencephalopathy are small indeed; so you take the chance that it won’t be you.
No one even knows how Marisa contracted MS. They think it might have been through a tick bite. And for five years or so, her symptoms were kept at bay by the medication. Then suddenly, confusion set in. It only became worse to the point that she could no longer drive, or work. Her parents cared for her right up to the end.
It’s hard to even think about the fact that she no longer is here. Her condo in Wheat Ridge CO was put up for sale and all her belongings sold or given away. Keepsakes, of course. But, why, is my question. Why?
I often think of others faced with these same sorrows; young lives cut off sometimes with no warning. A car accident, a heart attack, a murder. There are no words for times like those. For me, there is just giving it to our Lord. To his Mother. And leaving it right there.
And going on. Trying to live a worthy life. Which is easier said than done.
That’s why I love to knit. Because when I’m all finished, there is something THERE. A scarf, an afghan, a placemat, a sweater, or baby item. SOMETHING. Not nothing. ♥
Knitting , for me, fills up the voids. It gets into the crevices and cracks of our lives. It soothes and softens the blows of life. Its calming cheerfulness is in direct opposition to the lamentations that inevitably come our way.
Some of those grievings stay for a little while. Others have found a home. All we can do is learn to live with the reality. One day at a time.
One knitting stitch in front of the next. Sometimes to k2tog or yarnover twice, and knit 2, purl 2 are the most comforting words I hear. To look through my patterns, to pick up my needles, to read what others are knitting or asking, to keep making my things; there is no equal. Well, maybe my writing and a good hot cup of tea!
In this world, full often, our joys are only the tender shadows which our sorrows cast. Harriet Beecher Stowe
Come to knitting. Learn it if you don’t know how. There are many ways to do it. Books, DVDs, and in June my Knitting Video series. Learn a craft.
Simply Friday knitting musings, nothing more.
Knitting is a beautiful thing. Beauty is what we desire. It is attainable, very do-able, it is an achievement. It is a life work.
One knit and one purl stitch at a time.
As always, take your knitting to heart!