Knitting has been a part of my life since I was 8 years old. My mom taught me to knit. She was taught by her employer, when she was a young woman. It was the Continental style and over time, I mastered the art and built a comfortable "cruising speed". Years later, my mother told me she never "got" my love of it. I was blessed in that she knew enough to share it with me. I never really gave it up, though for many years, I didn't pick up my needles.
I started again, in earnest, when I was pregnant with my first child. I was very young, but very excited to have a child since I had been looking forward to being a mother from an early age.
Through the birth of two children, I knit. Sweaters, hats and mittens, in small sizes, are still my favorite projects.
After 16 years of marriage and a lot of drama, it became apparent that my marriage was over. Throughout the whole ordeal, I knit. As I re-call, or like to believe, I knit 9 sweaters through the 18 months it took to finish the legalities. During that time, I switched homes, took on a new job and had to endure the ordeal of estrangement from my first child.
Seven years later, I met the man who would become my second husband: A widower, with a young daughter. We were, I thought, a match "meant to be" Taking time and successfully maneuvering the ordeals of moving, home renovation, changing schools and jobs, including the loss of one, I was confident that we had the "stuff" to create a good life.
Unfortunately, I was mistaken. As it turned out, my second marriage was doomed from the beginning since my husband was living a secret life. When time and investigation revealed the dishonesty and complexity of that life, it was necessary to move on and obtain a second divorce - which, for me, was a painful reminder of previous loss.
Again, I pulled up stakes- not without enormous sadness - and re-set my life. This included a move to a rural area and a new way of life.
Through it all, the one constant was my knitting. When I could sit still, I often had a pair of needles in my hand. By this time, my first daughter, had a baby and so I was back to the joy of creating small items for a much desired and loved child.
Knitting has saved my life more than once. I have lost count of the number of times that making something helped me to move forward. Besides the soothing nature of working with good yarn and needles, the fact that I was knitting for the future, made me see that there was a future. It was a far different one than I had imagined, but that was not the point.
The simple act of making something is an act of hope. It means that something, and someone, will benefit from the time you invested. The energy you expend will be well used even if it comes with a strong dose of tears and regret. The fact is that along with those emotions comes a determination to proceed and thrive.