September 27, 2013
I know that my friends (and my parents’ friends) are at a loss. Everyone asks the same thing: “What can I do?” Except for Andrea, who followed that up by admitting that she knew there probably wasn’t really anything, but that’s what you’re supposed to say. And, honestly, right now Andrea is right. There really isn’t anything that I need right now. Right now my parents and I need to cook and clean because that’s normal.
But that doesn’t mean that food didn’t show up at the back door. We’re particularly grateful that the food just showed up without a knock to let us know someone was there. There was no expectation that we be sociable. And since this all happened just after I was discharged from the hospital, the last thing I wanted was to have to see people.
But last week Monday saw something different left at the back door. It was from Our Lady Rams of the Comments, as the Yarn Harlot used to call her. She did not bring me food. She brought me exactly what I needed at that moment. As my parents and I were leaving the house to meet with the funeral director to start planning Sofia’s memorial service, we found a plastic bag hanging on the back door. Inside were knitting needles and two balls of beautiful brilliant red yarn. A project was already cast on the needles, and the first row had been knit. A 3×5 card was speared onto the needles with the simple instruction of “seed-stitch scarf” written on it. A greeting card explained that this was something to keep my hands busy while my heart healed.
Some people bring food, but not Rams. Rams brings knitting.
P.S. Trust me. When I’m getting ready to head back to work, I’ll be very glad of all the people who want to provide meals. Once I add going into the office every day back into the mix, cooking will be one more stressor. But that day? That day what I needed was knitting.