Marcie’s knitting

Marcie was my coworker. She was also my friend and a really good knitter. She wouldn’t have said as much but I’ve seen the proof. She would tackle any pattern regardless of the skill level and would just learn what she needed on the fly. Cables, sock heels, short rows, entrelac… She even taught herself to knit right to left for entrelac because she’d read it would go faster that way. She wasn’t afraid of crochet trim or of frogging. She was willing to pull the needles out of her work any time it was necessary to fix a mistake.

She and I would sit together in meetings with our knitting. It was great to have the company.

Almost two years ago she died suddenly and unexpectedly. She didn’t have any valuables at work and her family didn’t want anything from her office. No one had gone thorough and cleaned up until this month. Afterwards my boss gave me these wrist warmers. Nothing too fancy, although the beads on the green are pretty. They’re a combination frilly and functional.

wrist warmers

Which is one of the things I love about knitting. Someone at work suggested I could “pull the yarn out” if I wanted to reuse it. I know Marcie wouldn’t be offended by that idea. But there’s no way I could do that. Instead I will wear them, use them, keep them as a physical memory of her until they’re worn out. Because that’s what knitting is meant for.

pink wrist warmers

Do you have any knitting with special memories worked into the stitches?

Advertisements

9 responses to “Marcie’s knitting

  1. My mother-in-law seems to have knit very little other than one pattern, over and over again– she made personalized Christmas stockings for every member of her extended family. Her own kids, their many cousins on both sides, eventually her children’s spouses and her grandkids– I never knew how many until she gave me the pattern and the yarn, and saw her charted diagrams for all the different names. The “pattern” was more of a recipe than a pattern, and the yarn– I’m going to guess that it’s Red Heart Super Saver from the 70’s or 80’s, a solid, extruded tube of Aran-weight acrylic so dense that I can’t believe she knit the stockings on size US 2 and US 3 needles. She has Lewy body dementia, aggressive enough that she can barely do anything for herself anymore, so for our youngest, who is the caboose baby and was born long after his grandmother’s dementia began, I tried to duplicate her style of stocking to make one just like it for him so that he wouldn’t feel left out. It was incredibly hard on my hands– such tight stitches!– and I had to wing it on a lot of things. But it means that I now know the other stockings, all the ones she knit for my husband, myself and our kids, far more than I ever would have otherwise. Long story, sorry!

    • This is a lovely story, thank you so much for sharing it! I’ve always believed that knitters are the most likely to appreciate the work of other knitters (even if we don’t appreciate the same types of yarn, or colors, or what have you)

      On Mon, Jan 19, 2015 at 7:29 PM, Ramblings wrote:

      >

  2. I still have some of the little cardigans my gran knit for my mum. I wore them and so did both my boys; I’m keeping them for just in case they have children in the future. I know Gran would love to see them being used.

    • Oh yes, baby keepsakes are the best. And little baby cardigans are so timeless. It’s wonderful that you’re able to keep them safe for future generations!

      On Tue, Jan 20, 2015 at 12:59 AM, Ramblings wrote:

      >

  3. An afghan made by my grandmother’s sister. She is almost completely blind but still crochets by feel!

    • Wow she can crochet by feel?! I’m able to knit by feel a little, in plain stockinette, for example. But crochet involves picking up from the edges constantly. I don’t think I could do that.

      On Tue, Jan 20, 2015 at 6:24 AM, Ramblings wrote:

      >

  4. beautiful knitting, beautiful post.

  5. I’m sorry about the loss of your friend. I think Marcie would be most pleased to know you are wearing and appreciating her lovely knitting. Her memory will now always be close to you.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s