Last week I learned that a mother in the village where I live was in the hospital for brain surgery--a large tumor. She has three children, two boys and one girl; the youngest is in 6th grade. When I started piano lessons at age 50, the six-grader was in first grade and she and I were the oldest and youngest students at the recitals. One of the boys is in my 14 year old's class. the village women have rallied to provide meals, laundry service, carpooling for the kids, etc., for as long as necessary. I have been making a chemo-hat, using a pattern from Rowan's Calmer collection. Calmer is such a soft, soft yarn. I hope Nancy likes it and wears it with healing thoughts in her mind.
Two months ago we learned that a former neighbor's cancer had returned, this time in more locations. He is the father of two little boys, ages 3 and 9 months. I knit a christening gown for his youngest son. Although family members have been helping out, I also try to take care of the boys for the afternoon sometimes to give the mother a rest--or an opportunity to do something without interruption.
How I wish that knitting could cure their tumors and their pain, the way it eases my anxiety and softens my spirit. How fortunate that Neither I nor my family members have cancer. (Although, my husband's oldest child died of AIDS at age 40). We tend to think that we are tough, that we can fix any problem with life just as we fix our knitting mistakes. Cut out and re-graft a knitting error and all is fine. Cut out a tumor and tiny little bits remain, requiring painful and debilitating treatment.
Knitting is a restorer of and cure for the spirit and the soul. But, if only I could also restore and cure bodies as well.