What stitches us together

Since my last entry a million years ago when the earth was still cooling, I’ve been thinking a lot about my Nana, who really inspired me to learn to knit. She was a brilliant woman—she graduated from college in 1921 with a major in mathematics, quite extraordinary at the time. She was lively and fun, weathering the disappointments and joys of life with what can only be described as true grace. Indeed, she was a classy women, her Chicago apartment, I remember even as a child, it was always just so. She was also a great seamstress and knitter. My mother has a blanket Nana knit for her and it’s such a beautiful pattern, knit with the most beautiful green yarn. My grandmother knits for practical purposes—booties when a baby is born, etc. My mother doesn’t knit at all. But I have inherited Nana’s love for both sewing and knitting. Thinking about my Nana, who lived to be 98, but was lost long before under the veil of dementia, makes me remember the summers when I was small and she would come visit. Sitting outside in a lawn chair, knitting her rows, I would sit at her feet, mesmerized…thinking that if I would ask her, she’d show me how to knit, but not wanting to stop the glorious rhythm of her stitches. I love to write, especially poetry, and while this is not by best work by far, I won’t apologize for it:

The needles are her voice to me
a cool sliding whisper, sure, constant
She knits the row
and I whisper quietly
in, around, under, and through
raptly watching her unravel
the mystery of the scarf, the sweater
Whatever she makes
it will not be for her
Just the silence, and sliding metallic murmur of
in, around, under, and through
Each stitch loved
placed in a row
watching her hands move methodical
wrinkles running to her elbows
ripples in a pond
I am suddenly moved by an unseen force
to tell her of my great love, respect
wanting to ask her to teach me
that peace, grace, stitch by stitch
but beyond the soft sigh of
in, around, under, and through
it is so quiet
and the moment passes in my heart
She looks up and smiles at me
knowing anyway
and I am undone