When I was a little girl, my grandma taught me to knit. She gave me this pair of old plastic needles, sat me down on her couch, cast on for me, and showed me how to do the basic stitch.
That first practice swatch was terrible.
That was a long time ago and a lot has happened since then.
I think some of the other grandkids will know what I mean when I say that grandma didn’t always understand our accomplishments or our life decisions.
But she was always proud of us.
She always loved us.
And when I was packing to travel to be here today, I was sure to pack my knitting.
My grandmother died on July 20th. She was 77 and we all expected her to live another 20 years. When we saw her at Easter, there was no indication that anything was wrong.
These are the words I spoke at her funeral.
The image above is my favourite picture of grandma. As far as I know this is the last image of her with her natural hair texture. For most of her life, she kept her hair shorter and permed.