Oh look! I barely started a sock. It’s the There & Back Again Socks by Dawn Cottone. I’ll be using the JulieSpins half pint in totally red and winter sky.
So far so good but I have taken on more than I needed to. I’m a top down sock knitter. This is a toe up pattern. I know in the whole scheme of things it just means knitting the pattern in reverse but life has me off kilter at the moment and this falls into the just one more thing category.
I’ve been thinking about my mother a lot lately. Let’s be honest I think about her daily but it’s been more lately. I think about my father too but with him it’s more of a did you get the gutters cleaned, always change the oil in your car, make sure you balance your checkbook and don’t charge more on your credit card than you can pay off at the end of the month kind of way. He was the no nonsense type. My mother had a way of seeing things and getting right to the point of it without being preachy or dismissive. When I was in high school one of her good friends died suddenly-she fell down her basement stairs. My mother and her friends were shocked and saddened. It was the first death in their circle. It knocked them off balance. My mother said well, shit something bad is coming. Her friend’s husband was diagnosed with a very aggressive form of Parkinson’s a year or two later and died within a year or so. Her friend never would have been able to handle that. It would have killed her but she went first. I went with my parents to both of these wakes. They were people I’d known my entire life. At the funeral home one of the employees spoke with my mother in a way I knew was more than sympathy friendly. A year or so later my grandmother passed away. She lived with us when I was growing up and had died at home while I was at work one evening. My mother’s friend from the funeral home was the one who came to pick up my grandmother. It wasn’t until after the funeral my mother told me that she and Jim were standing over my grandmother’s body chatting like you do when you see someone you’ve known a long time when she suddenly told him he had to hurry up so I didn’t come around the corner and see the hearse parked in front of the house. I arrived right after he left. It seems Jim was a guy she had dated. She’d known him from the time she was a young girl. When I got home I got the well, shit things went sideways talk that always accompanied a conversation about things that went just plain wrong. In 2011 my brother in law suddenly got very sick. 24 hours after eating Thanksgiving dinner (it wasn’t the meal that got him) with him he was in ICU in a coma. About two weeks later we got the call that he had died. Immediately I called my mother. Her response was “Well, shit.” I knew what she meant. All our good thoughts and prayers hadn’t brought the results we wanted. “Well, shit.” is the response to something that hadn’t gone the way you wanted. When she died and I called my BFF “Well, shit!” was all she could say. I had said well, shit a few years earlier when her mother died. As I muddle through my own well, shit moments, and there have been many of the thank god no one is dead kind recently, I wonder what her advice would be.