Some Sad Knitting

While I was looking for quilt squares in my cedar chest, I came upon these.

My mother was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer in December of 2000, and after radiation, chemotherapy, and a heart-wrenching and painful struggle, died in January of 2002.

I clearly remember when she first told me about it; all I could think to do was knit for her. So I did. I had some sort of vague, irrational idea that if I could knit her chemo caps to keep her warm and comfortable after she lost her hair, then everything would be okay. I was so focused on this that I knit these in two days, without patterns, and out of some unsuitable cotton that I had on hand. She did lose her hair, and wore these, but they didn't make everything okay.

All I can remember about the funeral is sobbing to my sister afterwards about another chemo cap that I had made Mom out of Chinchilla. It was also unsuitable yarn for a hat (rayon chenille, dry clean only), but so soft, and it was Mom's favorite. I was afraid it had gotten lost, but it turned out that my sister had it. That was fine; I just couldn't bear to think about these last fragile connections with my mother disappearing.

After almost 14 years I mainly recall the happy memories, but finding these in the cedar chest did make me a bit teary-eyed. It's good to remember the sadness occasionally as it makes the happy times in our lives even sweeter.