My Grandmother taught me to knit and crochet when I was twelve years old. I still recall sitting at her feet. Hearing her knitting needles click as she worked with patience. One eye on me, one eye on her project and quick glances of her favorite baseball team, playing on her TV. Every so often she would look over at me with a smile and say, “Count your stitches, Bobbi.” At that age, I didn’t realize she was giving me something far greater than a hobby.
As the years passed, I would occasionally pick up my knitting needles or my crochet hook that my grandmother gifted me. I never had a plan or a pattern to create anything. I simply enjoyed the quiet rhythm of one stitch at a time, using the same huge green ball of yarn that my grandmother taught me on. When my daughter was young. I joined a knitting and crocheting group at Michael’s Craft Store. I still remember the excitement and surprise of finishing my very first sweater that someone could actually wear. It gave me the confidence to keep knitting and crocheting.
Over the years I’ve made blankets as gifts and scarves to wrap around my loved ones. Along with an occasionally matching hat. Every project has become more than yarn and needles for me. Everything I have made holds a little piece of my heart, along with the memory of my grandmother.
As I look back, I realize that knitting and crocheting became much more than a pastime. During some of my most stressful seasons of my life, picking up my needles gave me a sense of peace that I couldn’t always find anywhere else. Crocheting or Knitting allowed me to lose myself within that moment. One stitch at a time, my anxious thoughts would quiet my soul and allow my mind to stop racing.
Today whenever I pick up my yarn, I can still hear my grandmother’s gentle voice. “Count your stitches, Bobbi.” What a precious gift she gave me. My grandmother taught me more than just knitting and crocheting. She taught me patience, perseverance, and that sometimes healing happens one quiet stitch at a time.
Thank you, Grandma