Friday, November 17, 2006

My grandmother's hands

I wish I had a picture of my grandmother's hands.

I am slowly working my way through Hooked

I just read the essays by Annie Modesitt and Amy O'Neill Houck. Both deal in different ways with having learned to crochet and the connection that brings with their grandmothers. Amy has clear remembrances of being taught, of time spent of things made. Her essay is one of the best in this anthology. Well written, thoughtful and heart-felt.

It made me sad though. I don't have those memories, though I also learned to crochet through long hours spent with my Grandma Allaria. I don't remember what she told me. I don't remember what she showed me or how. I do remember what I made...endless acrylic potholders and those kitchen towels with the crocheted tops forming a loop to attached to the fridge door.

I don't remember what she worked on. I have no idea if the crochet embellished linens my mom has stashed away were done by her, or perhaps her mom? I do know my great grandmother came from Sicly in the early 1900s and this skill comes from her. I wish I had asked more questions. I wish I had been more interested.

When I was working on a blanket the other day though, something about how I was holding things brought a sudden flash of her hands. Her filed to a dagger nails pointing out stitches, running over the yarn.

I miss her.

I wish I had a picture of her hands.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Dawn: Thanks SO much for leaving a comment about Unwound. That makes my day in a big way. However - I have an itty bitty favor to ask: would you consider participating in the listener poll? No pressure. :) Thanks for listening and I hope to "hear" from you via the voicemail line soon.

Also - I know how you feel about not remembering everything about learning crochet from your grandmother. My memories are pretty scattered, too, and I think about it all the time. Thanks for sharing and take care!