Ever since I can remember I've had a hand-knit article of clothing in my possession. A pair of socks, gloves, hats, sweaters. You name it and my Mom had made it. Not only for me, but for my sister, my father, my husband, her friends, her friend's friends. The list goes on and on. Growing up this was something I always took for granted. After all, they were as much a staple in my life as air is to any other child. But then I had a child of my own and suddenly these were no longer just bundles of pretty colors and patterns.
These tangible items that have the ability to transport us, to remind us of a time forgotten. The sweaters that my son wears today will be worn by his children one day. And the socks and hats that kept me warm so many winters will be faithful to him when the time comes. And one day, many many years from now, when my Mom is gone, we will be able to wrap ourselves in her love.