The first time that I ever thought about crochet as a way to deal with life, is when my grandmother started in-home Hospice care, with my mother and I as her caregivers. You see my grandmother is the one who I learned to crochet from, well her and her crochet group. The Happy Hookers, as this group of women in their 70s jokingly called themselves; Never tiring of the not so little, little inside joke of theirs. When my grandmother started hospice, my mother didn't crochet at all. But, her sitting there unsure of what to do with her hands, my grandmother and taught my mother to crochet - with the first thing she made being a blanket for her mother. As we all worked with yarn it helped us to deal with the loss to come, the yarn had become a way of healing as we worked it in to whatever it was to be.
For some it's the two knitting needles they hold, for others it's a sewing needle as they work the thread, but for me, I find it to be Extremely true when I crochet. In my mind I see what I'm working on as a finished piece done and being used; how the fibers will wear with time. For some will stay the same never getting any softer never losing any color, the love and thought that were there when it was made will never show on them. But then, there are fibers that get softer as you work them in to what ever its to be, with every time its washed loses a bit of color, a sweater shows the love of the one who made it and the one who wears it. Thats just how the Shawl that I'm crocheting out of Bamboo will be, softer with every wear. A "go-to" soft piece of clothing wear, that's easy to care for.
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