Friday, December 16, 2005

Knitting love & passion for my children, December 16, 2005


 I can't go walking any more, because it is really cold outside, also because of the danger of slipping on frozen snow all over the sidewalk, especially when I am pregnant. I spend all of my time at home relaxing and doing little stuff around the house.  Sometimes the bad thoughts start to come and that's the time that I need to chat with my husband on line, or if he is busy at work, I chat with a few friends on line. Mostly some friends from high-school and another friend Charlie. And if none of them are on line, I wait for my sister, mother and brother to call or I call them and ..... These are the things that help me feel relaxed and then I play some songs that remind me of all the old and good days. They may not be happy songs but they can still give me good feelings, and then I start to knit, putting my love into yarn and make little cute outfits for my little boys.


I learned to knit from when I was eight. My mother is a wonderful knitter and we have always been proud of her being an extremely talented and patient knitter. When I knit , I think about her more, remembering how calm she is when she knits , she never hurries to finish, like I do, but being 72,  knitting hurts her eyes.. That is why I know how much love she has for my children, because she knits for them. I don't knit badly, but still her knitting is so far away from mine,because she is wonderful.


I knit for my children and talk with them, about a few good memories that I have from my childhood. I have been trying to forget bad memories for years, because they take the passion from  my heart, and it is the last thing that I need during my pregnancy. I talk with my children about my father, when I was maybe four, sitting on his lap and trying to count his gray hair, which were not a few, for sure many more than all the numbers that I knew.  I was sad seeing him getting old, but he gave me a pleasant thought: He said that I did not need to count, because he knew he had as many dark hairs as  white. And then I felt happy: satisfied that my father was not very old.  Maybe it is the best memory that I have of him, and maybe it is why I talk about it with my children a lot. Thankfully they are not teenagers yet to stop me for telling the same story again and again. Of course,  I will stop anytime that they want. I just want to share with them all of my good memories. I think it helps the passion growing up in their hearts.

1 comment:

  1. I recall a comic strip from two or three decades ago, about twins waiting to be born and discussing what they thought their mom was doing, why they were upside down, what she was eating, things like that. I think of your twins talking to each other about you, sometimes. "What do you think she is knitting now, River?"
    "I don't know, Relic, but you can have it."
    "Why, brother?"
    "Because I just want to be naked and in the water like this."
    "Maybe that's why you are named River!"

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