From the pen of Nancy Knows, here’s a really interesting and insightful post on how a simple project turned into something much greater than she thought!!
Last night I finished a big crochet project, a gift for my daughter, that has turned into something of a family joke. Around Christmas time I told her I would make her a scarf, and when it was complete she looked at it, handed it back to me and said, “This is pretty– make it into a blanket.”
Never mind that the stitch pattern was not at all suitable for an afghan, because it has scalloped edges that were difficult to join. Never mind that it was also mind-numbingly repetitive– had I known she wanted a blanket I would have chosen something a little more interesting to stitch. (She actually counted the stitches in one of the stripes and then multiplied them by 5, and came to the conclusion that I have done over 6,000 of this repetitive stitch, just in this one piece.) Never mind that she picked the colors– our taste is very different– and the yarn (I am sick of the feel of acrylic at this point). Well, not never mind. I fear that over the 6 months of working on this, I have made it clear at times that I would much rather be working on something that was more fun for me.
When I presented her with the blanket, well, if I’m honest, I was initially feeling relief more than anything. (Thank God I don’t have to do even one more stitch like that ever again, and thank God I can work with some cotton now.) And then I saw her face, and it was like a light went on in my heart.
She was glowing like I just told her we were going to Disney World– in fact, I’m pretty sure she was actually happier than the times we’ve announced surprise family trips. She hugged me so hard I felt it in my ribs. She said, “You have no idea how much this means to me. This was a hard project for you, and yet you finished it, because you love me so much.”
There are other things I have made and will make that are or will be more beautiful or more fun, but this blanket now goes down in our family history as an heirloom, simply because it’s a tangible expression of our close bond. There will come a time when I need her to take care of me. And I know she will because she will remember those six thousand stitches.
Thanks to the lovely Nancy Knows for her contribution. Who wouldn’t love a mom like that?
Stevie Wilson,
LA-Story.com
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