A lot has happened since I last wrote. Sometimes life is slow and sometimes life speeds by. Even in a sleepy suburban burgh of low global consequence. When you’ve lived most of your life filled with things and doings, some life events bring you back down to realising that it’s people, your people that make your life. Who they are and what they’ve done nor even whether or not they look similar to you don’t matter as much as their just being a part of who you and yours are. When I joined this knitting group, I gained a group of friends.
In one week, actually in the span of the last 24 hours, we had a birth and a death. One of us became a grandparent and one of us lost a life partner. One has a parent in the hospital and one has someone close get the bad diagnosis. That last one is me.
The irony or coincidence is just as we had chosen our year’s charity knit to be breast prosthesis, Tits Bits or Knitted Knockers depending on which side of the border you boat. I had just gotten the yarn and not yet cast on when I got the news. Our resident DPN (double pointed needle) specialist was already three pairs in, and I asked for her help. Her handiwork on such a piece was going to be superior to mine, so I asked if I could commission one from her. I felt guilty for asking since she just got a diagnosis of lateral epicondylitis (aka knitting/tennis elbow), but if there was anytime to ask for a favour, this was it. When someone you know and love has The Big C and someone else you know and love is doing something related to it; it was like letting the right hand talk to the left hand.
It’s not the first tragedy to befall us. but like hurricanes and tornadoes, it seems like dramatic events come into season in clusters. And so we rally for each other.
NYC2DETBlog 