I continue cruising around our house, doing spring cleaning, which means finding new arrangements and solutions that match the needs of our family of five. This little house of ours has undergone many remakes over the years: family life - as I've finally come to see - is all about fluidity. Whatever solution or rhythm we find, in fact, only works for a brief time. Then children grow, needs change, interests evolve. All the while the seasons are cycling past, too. The house of a growing family reflects all these changes.
During my sorting and cleaning, I came across a sweater I made for Jeremy when he was three years old. I knew it was there somewhere, but I had been in no hurry to dig it out, even though Rebecca is now the right size to wear it.
I still vividly remember buying that yarn, on a cold winter morning back in 2002. First, I'd chosen yarns in white and a nice shade of baby-blue, for a little striped newborn outfit. Then I picked some very different colors, red and browns and cream, for a sweater - also striped - for the smaller of my two toddlers, who was soon going to become a big brother.
I knitted the striped toddler sweater first, but I never completed the baby-blue and white newborn outfit (here). And when the newborn didn't come, I never picked up my knitting needles again. In fact, all the time that Jeremy wore it, I had mixed feelings about that striped sweater.
I've had those same mixed feelings again as Rebecca has worn it the last few days. Feelings of anticipation never met, of grief and sorrow. Feelings of love as I was handmaking something for my child. A part of me and of our family life that will always be there. Feelings and family life knitted inside a striped sweater.
