Knitting Through Sadness

I have found that knitting is one of the most soothing and satisfying activities in my life. It is like meditation. It calms and quiets my mind and makes me feel centered. Another benefit is knitting with friends, or people who will soon become friends, because of our shared passion with needles and fiber.

Few people take the time these days to just sit and talk. Even though we use our beloved obsession as the reason to convene, it is truly the connecting of hearts that brings us together week after week. We talk about movies, we talk about kids, dogs, the state of the country, in addition to stitches and patterns and what we will be making next. We laugh, and sometimes we cry.

My friend Julie is a recent widow. Harold's passing has left a hole in our lives, but Julie is the one whose life has been blow up and she is slowly picking up the pieces, even though there are many days when she's not so sure she wants to pick up any more pieces. Yet, she knits through her sadness. Since the funeral she has knitted shawls to comfort each of her children. One is large enough to surround her son and daughter-in-law together. Tonight, we sat for the whole evening . . knitting, talking and crying. What I noticed is that the stitches came as effortlessly as the conversation and the tears.

I don't know what it's like to lose a husband. I have been intimate with grief, and know that it is often hard to get out of bed much less pick up needles . . .yet there's the movement of soft fiber through the fingers, the monotony of the activity and quiet conversation that soothes the soul.

Tuesday night the whole group meets for our weekly session. We will laugh, we'll swear at our mistakes, and we'll touch each others hearts with our stories. . . and the sadness will still be there, but we'll be comforted by yarn and each other.

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