A year ago my grandmother, Martha, gave me her collection of knitting magazines. They are a trip to flip through, yet I have not attempted to make anything from them yet. I was looking for inspiration this weekend and may have found it in a hooded mohair pullover - "it's too dashing to save just for skiing"!
This is by way of an introduction to another gift from my grandmother: the hand -knit wool jumper she made for herself in the 60's. It's been in my closet for a few years, but it has never seem to be the right time to wear it. This week, as the temperature dropped into the single digits, I thought, "It's now or never."
When my grandmother knit the jumper, she was just a little younger than I am now. She and my grandfather were raising their five children on the east coast and in less than a year the family would move to California.
It's startling to think of my grandmother as a mother. I mean, she always been my grandma, but of course to become a grandma, she had to be a mother first. She's been where I am now, through the joys and the struggles. And in her quite moments, she knit. A half century may separate our days, but some things stay the same.