Mom-mom's Tradition

When I was younger, before I can even remember, I received one of my longest lasting gifts. My great grandma, Mom-mom, knitted 2-year-old me a Christmas stocking. All reds and greens and whites, Santa even had a fluffy beard because of a different type of yarn she used. Mom-mom knit a stocking for all the member of our family. Her kids, her grandkids and their spouses, all of the great grandchildren. She knit me and many of my cousins more than one stocking, so that we would always have the memories and love she put into them with us. Unfortunately, she passed away in 2014 due to pancreatic cancer. My grandma was taking care of her at the time, and from my Mom-mom, she learned how to carry on the making of Christmas stockings.

I didn’t get to go to her funeral. It was a small affair and my mom didn’t want to pull me out of school to travel across the country for a weekend, we didn’t have the money to afford it, however my mom did go, she had to, Mom-mom had raised her for a few years, and there was no way she could miss her funeral. My mom didn’t get to learn Mom-mom’s craft from Mom-mom, but my grandma taught her in the weekend that she was there, my mom finishing her first stocking when she made it home after the funeral.

I used to visit my grandparents in Florida every year after my Mom-mom passed away. From Oklahoma to California, every summer I made the trip. And the first one after my Mom-mom's death, my grandma taught me how to make stockings as well. At first, I was an absolute wreck. I would lose my scissors in the seat cushions, or cut the strings too short, get my bobbins tangled up and couldn't get my stitches even, let alone get past the first row of stitches at first. But as challenging as it was, it made me closer to my grandma but even more so, it was something that connected me to Mom-mom.

It took me an entire summer. Greens and reds and browns and whites all combined, my small pair of scissors cutting here and there, removing bobbins and sewing down the ends of the threads, and my first Christmas stocking was finished. My tribute to my great grandmother. In the time it took me to finish one, my grandma finished 3, but I wasn’t any less proud of my accomplishment, of the love and time and care I put into making my lopsided gingerbread man stocking.

At the end of the summer, before I went home, my grandma gave me a gift beyond that of the knowledge to make stockings like Mom-mom. She had ordered for me several balls of yarn, as well as bobbins, and gave me, as it wasn’t something that could be ordered, Mom-mom’s favorite pair of scissors.

I spent my free time in middle school and high school, knitting. I carried on Mom-mom’s tradition. For my closest friends, I made stockings with love. For the people that became our family after we moved, my mom and I made stockings. Last year, after my cousin’s fiancé proposed to her, we immediately made him a stocking.

Four generations of women, carrying on this tradition. It made me closer to my grandma, who consistently checked on my process, closer to my mother, when we’d sit together, working on our own projects, and close to Mom-mom, who started our tradition, and who’s love I felt, every time I knit a stocking or I picked my own out of our Christmas storage, every year.

I’m in college now, and while my stockings and knitting supplies are at home, I plan on ordering more, so I can keep my hands and mind busy, while also gifting those I care about with an item they can carry with them always. I don’t have kids yet, but when I do, and when they’re grown enough, I’ll tell them the story of Mom-mom, and how much she would have loved them. I’ll tell them why I knit, and if they want to, I can help them learn too, so we can continue Mom-mom’s tradition for decades.