FOWC with Fandango — Yarn
I just came across this prompt today. Better late than never. I have been reminiscing a lot about my mom lately. Seeing the word prompt, yarn, almost brought tears to my eyes. For years when I visited my mom, I would typically make a run to JoAnn’s to get her some yarn. She was an avid crocheter.
She was the president of the craft room in a senior center for quite some time. Then she started a club in her own retirement community called Hooks and Needles. She taught women how to crochet and knit. She helped if anyone was stuck on a pattern. It especially brought her a great deal of pleasure helping people who had never crocheted before. She was always trying something new when anyone was having a baby. Baby quilts were a great way to try new techniques.
My mom made lap quilts for Veterans residing in Veteran’s hospitals and homes. Her favorites were made from granny squares. The lap quilts were made with love and careful attention. I don’t ever remember a time, except the last months of her life, that she wasn’t working on granny squares. They were meticulously organized, in various stages of completion, by color. She was given numerous honors for her contributions to the Veterans. I am so proud of her devotion to give to those in need.
Mom was also connected to the hospitals in her area. When they needed baby hats for newborns and infants in the NICU, she banded her group together. They made hundreds of baby hats at Valentine’s Day and Christmas, of course. There was a steady stream of baby hats leaving her house to be donated.
The most treasured gifts my mom gave all those she loved were slipper socks. She would tell me what color yarn she needed, and I delivered whatever she wanted. A very thick black yarn was always on her list. It served as the bottoms of all the slipper socks.
As my children had children, she laughed and said they were trying to give her more work to do. All of us were deeply touched by her gifts. Each year she would ask my daughters to measure the length of my grandkid’s feet so she could make them slippers socks that would fit. No longer could she whip them out in day. It was a long process she was determined to complete every year. The slipper socks were bagged up and delivered from their GG. (When my first grandchild came along, we went with GG for great grandma.)
My mom made afghans for all of us at different times. When I purchased a new sofa, she made me three afghans to fit on the three sections. She told me I needed new ones because my former sofa was different colors. I never asked for new ones, they just kept appearing. 😊
She made my aunt, her former sister-in-law, a beautiful afghan when she moved into an assisted living home. My 94-year-old aunt is always cold. This afghan has been a G-d send to her. Here we are many years later and it is still on her bed to this day.
My daughters were given afghans as children, as young adults when they moved into temporary places, and then more when they moved into their homes as adults. She has gifted so many people with her lovely afghans.
Many years ago my mom made the most beautiful granny square quilt to fit my Cal King bed. It was huge and oh so heavy. Living in Southern California I rarely used it because it was so hot. I gifted it to my cousin in Michigan as she cherished it and can use it for much of the year. I knew it would make my mom happy. My cousin was very close to my mom. They had a special bond that I was grateful for.
Whenever I had a friend who was expecting a baby my mom offered to make a layette set. She made bonnets, baby socks, and a matching blanket. I would deliver yarn to Mom, and in return receive a special gift of love.
On a day before her passing, my mom gave me directions of what to do with items in her house. I made a list of everything she wanted me to do. One detail was what to do with her yarn and crocheting supplies. She wanted them to go to her Hooks and Needles group. She had stepped down as the woman in charge a few years earlier as she wasn’t physically able to go to each meeting. After her passing, I did my best to follow all her wishes. She had a smirk on her face when she told me where to find all her yarn. Little did I know how extensive her stash was.
I found yarn in her living room end tables, behind her recliner chair, in her pantry, in her garage, in her Arizona room closet, in her guest room closet, in her closet, in the linen closet, and under her bed. I started giggling as I found new hidden repositories. When I finally piled it all in her living room, I admit I laughed out loud. I was smirking at all the times Mom had told me she needed the thick black yarn. I rarely came without a skein. Low and behold there were at least thirty skeins under her bed.
I called the woman in charge of the Hooks and Needles group to tell her of my mom’s donation. She was so very sweet. She asked if she should bring her car or her Blazer. Not being a car person, I said to bring whatever was bigger. I had never met this woman but when she arrived, we hugged and cried for quite some time. I brought her in to see what my mom was donating, and she exclaimed that it was going to be multiple trips. I helped her load up everything and finally the third trip was completed. She told me of upcoming projects the ladies would be completing with my mom’s supplies. I knew it would make my mom happy. She had given so many women yarn for their projects whenever they needed anything.
I connected with the same woman over a year after our initial meeting. She told me they were still using my mom’s yarn. They were focusing on baby hats for the hospital and lap quilts. It made me cry and smile at the same time.
Yarn has a special meaning to me. My connection to my mom is woven with love.