Memories

momnme.jpg

That’s me and my Mom, Dorothy. At least the mom that raised me. She’s really my grandmother, mother to my real father. I didn’t find out she wasn’t my real mom though until I was 14. So she’s my mom, and always will be. I lost her in July to a heart attack. It’s been odd really, because I can’t say we had the bestest relationship after my father (my grandfather) and her divorced when I was 14. She seemed to have a problem trying to figure out with in her own life, of where she would put me. One year I would get a birthday card to a “wonderful daughter” and that same year, a Christmas card would show up from “Your grandmother” I think it must have been so very hard on her to deal with some of the stressful situation concerning my childhood. I don’t fault her for what, or how, or when she did things. I just miss her. She’s my mom, how could I not.

So what lead me to put her into my blog? I was sitting here tonight, looking over knitting patterns on the Internet and having flashbacks to sitting on that dreaded ugly brown couch I used to have as a pre-teen. Next to me was my mom, and next to her was that even uglier floral yarn bag. I have vague memories of her trying desperately to show me how to knit and crochet and running into all sorts of problems that a left handed teacher trying to teach a right handed daughter would have. I took what I learned, added my own ideas and spent the next almost 20 years knitting and crocheting how I thought everyone else did.

It took this past month of rediscovering needle knitting to realize how wrong I did knit. No, most people don’t hold the needles between their legs, or throw the yarn with their left hand. No, most people don’t knit into the back of the stitch. But I did. And part of me felt torn. This is the way my mom taught me, is it wrong, disrespectful, denying the memory to try and learn the correct way to hold the needles, to purl, to knit to cast on, to bind off.

So, I’m sitting here looking at a cute shrug pattern that would fit my youngest daughter, and I almost closed the Internet window when I saw it was knitted on circulars. Before, I would not have been able to knit on circulars. You can’t put them between your legs after all. But suddenly I realized, that this was no longer the case. I could knit with circulars. I can knit and purl and hold both needles in my hands, and I had been for over 2 weeks.

And part of me felt lonely when I realized that, like somehow I lost a part of my Mom. And part of me flew! I could expand my horizon, I could knit in a circle! And so I’m writing this mom, to let you know somehow, that I’m ready to set flight. I’m not leaving you behind, I’m going to take you with me. I’ll create things neither of us could have back on Laurel Street. It was you who first let me take my baby steps of yarn crafting, and that makes me very much in debt to you. I miss you mom, your little girl has grown up. I’m branching out. (and when I create my branching out scarf next, it will be dedicated to you.)

Laurel street has moved to Logan Utah, the past has moved to the present, and now, it’s my turn to pass on this wonderful love of crafting to my oldest daughter Deonna. Somehow Mom, I know, you’ll be smiling, as your Right handed daughter, tries to teach her Left handed child how to Knit and Purl and Cast on and Bind off, and I so hope, when I look into Deonna’s green eyes, that look so much like your green eyes from my childhood, I’ll remember, it’s not about being right, or perfect or correct, but it’s about being a Mom to my daughter the bestest way I can.

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1 Comment

Filed under Family Life

One response to “Memories

  1. You are amazing Tina. Tears are running down my face. I am sure your Mum is very proud of you. She gave you wings and now, you are ready to use them :).
    Your post reminds me a lot of my Grandma–she raised me too as my Mum moved to the US.

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