03/27/2025
It's been almost 8 months. During that time, I crocheted maybe four or five times. The hook was a double-edged sword, both helping me feel connected and painfully reminding me I would never get to hear her opinion of something I made, or get advice on how to fix a mistake with minimal frogging...or tips and tricks to master a tricky pattern. This was the last thing I showed her, it was a small, humble triangle then. I showed her the yarn cones for both the blue green section and then the blue/green speckled white I was going to use for the outer section.
It is the last project with her stamp of approval on the vision I had for it, I think it is only fitting that it will be the first one I finish after taking a long hiatus. The crocuses, daffodils, and forsythias are blooming, Grandma. It makes me think of how you'd look forward to them every spring, and it makes me feel warmth and joy, but it hurts too. I think I'm getting to a point where the hurt is okay. I've accepted it as a long-term companion, because grief is the weight of love with nowhere to go, and I will love and miss you forever.
