Just Plain Foolish

Just a chance for an old-fashioned, simple storyteller to say what needs to be said.

Thursday, November 16, 2006


Last night, I talked to my dad on the phone, and it was hard. I just wanted to sit down and cry, and luckily, I was among friends. My friends heard me out, heard my anger and my sorrow, and sat with me, just being there. I know at least one of you will read this today. Thank you. She even told exactly the kind of stupid joke I usually tell, which made me feel incredibly better.

And she offered what I know to be a very precious gift: her time. This woman and her husband have the most overbooked schedules of anybody I know. They work, stay involved with their local community, their families, their church, and volunteer to feed the hungry in a very direct way. I can't even count the times she's spent visiting time with friends boiling eggs, making soup, prepping sandwiches. And yet, she told me to make sure to call her this weekend, so I'd have someone to be there.

Another friend gave me a gift that I don't even know if she knows how precious it is. While she heard me out in my frustration, she put a skein of yarn in my lap - and what a skein. Left to my own devices, I choose dark or bright yarns - royal blue or purple, teal, burgundy, a deep grey infused with other colors, just to name some currently sitting in my knitting bag. They don't stain easily or show the dirt, yet with a little bit of something bright, they shine. They work with glow in the dark pale ole me. She put a skein of baby blue and deep gold shading to khaki yarn in my lap and told me to "play with it".

Today, I took my #9 bamboo needles and cast on just a few stitches of that impossibly light yarn (and not just the color - this is the Paton wool and soy fiber blend, so it's pretty lofty for you knitters out there) and I just felt her love in that gift, an offering of comfort, of something to do with my hands instead of wringing them, of softness, of brightness, of a little bit of hope. That pale blue is a little bit like knitting a bit of air, a shimmering brightness. And I didn't realize how much I needed it until she gave it. Thanks, y'all.


Post a Comment

<< Home