Yes, it's time to come out: I am a 'closet granny'. I like to crochet. These days, if I had said, "I like to knit," that would have been seen as trendy. But who says they like to crochet? Me, I guess. It's a phase I go through every 10 years or so. I just finished making Emalie a blanket. I can't remember making a blanket since we lived on Whidbey. (Maybe I've done more projects since then, but since I've already exposed myself as a granny then memory lapses are acceptable.) This was my first ever 'granny square' blanket. I must admit this, too: it was a total pain (all those loose ends every time I switched colors!). BUT, I love the finished product.
What I love most about crocheting is this: it reminds me of my (Great) Aunt Emma. When I was little (8? 9? 10?), she was the one who taught me how to do it. I clearly remember riding my bike from the shop (dad and mom owned an auto repair shop in town) to Emma's house during the summertime. It was during these visits together that she taught me all sorts of things. She and her husband never had children, so they loved every child as if he/she was their own. (Uncle Johnny taught me how to tie my shoes!) I don't know what possessed Emma to teach a child how to crochet, other than the fact that she was obviously a saint. If you know how to crochet, then you realize the patience involved in this hobby. She never gave up on teaching me the correct way to hold the yarn and hook, regardless of how many mistakes I made. I was very young, but I still remember her patience and love. I think she'd be tickled to know that I still crochet every now and then. I think she'd be even more tickled to know that my latest project was for my daughter (and that this blanket was to update the blanket she had been using-- a blanket I crocheted for my son before he was born). Several times while I was making Emalie's blanket, I caught her sneaking into my yarn drawer, grabbing a hook, an end of yarn and making motions to mimic me crocheting. I am eager to teach her how to crochet when she gets a little older. If not for the fact of teaching her a lifelong hobby, then to share my stories of Aunt Emma with her when I do so. (I hope I can exhibit half as much patience!) Boy, did I (and still do) love that lady! Sadly, Emma passed away a few weeks before my wedding. In all those years, I never knew when her birthday was. I found out in her obituary: her birthday was our wedding day. So every year on our anniversary, I send up a little prayer wishing Emma a happy birthday and thanking her for sharing her wisdom and love. The irony of it is all too perfect. As I got older (especially during the academy years), Emma and I would have great heart to hearts about dating, men and love. (I know! How incredible is it that a 20 year old and 80 year old could have these talks!) She always said, "You'll just know." I learned so much from Aunt Emma. I miss her terribly, but I'm so grateful to carry her in my heart for always. And when I need to feel a hug from her, all I have to do is cuddle up with the afghan she crocheted for me.......for my wedding.
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| Emma and I in 1995 during one of my visits home from KP. |
