We are so very often looking for something shiny and new that we forget to look back at the past and think about all the moments that made us smile. Our histories built us and our histories make us stronger. But sometimes, the best part, is that the let us see just how loved we are.
These knitting needles are some of my most treasured possessions, although I am not entirely certain that I should call them mine. They were my grandmother’s and technically they still belong to my mom. (Let me point out that possession is 9/10ths of the law, and currently they are in mine…) They made it my way when I decided I wanted to knit again when I was in the hospital Freshman year of college.
My mom taught me how to knit as a kid, and I knit for a little while in high school, where it was the epitome of un-cool. But I enjoyed it. So, I picked it back up when I needed something to distract my brain during those long days. As I started to knit more and more, I collected more of the knitting needles from my mom’s collection. One pair at a time, they made their way to me.
Every time I knit with a pair, I am reminded of the women who used them before me. The grandmother I was too young to remember and the mother who would do anything for me.