People say crocheting is only for grandmas

When I was a little girl, I asked my Grandma Annie to crochet an afghan for me. I remember waiting for what seemed like forever for her to finish it. I used to spend every Saturday afternoon with her. I vividly remember asking and asking when she would be finished with my afghan. Finally, my grandma presented me with a beautiful chevron afghan in six different shades of green (my favorite color at the time), from light lime to dark forest. I was amazed that someone could make such a work of art. I loved crafts at the time but was limited to lanyards and sand art. Each winter, I would wrap myself in the afghan and burrow under the covers. As I drifted off to sleep I would imagine the afghan was my grandma, wrapping her arms around me.

Almost thirty years later, I still have my beloved green chevron afghan--but I don’t have my grandma. In 2008, my eighty-six year old grandmother was brutally and senselessly murdered in her home for her car and forty dollars. There was no goodbye, no closure, and no sufficient answer to why my grandmother’s tragic death happened. I go on each day without her because I have to. There hasn’t been a day in almost thirteen years that I haven’t thought of her.

Throughout my life, I’ve dabbled in various hobbies that require creativity. In 2019, I started crochet classes. Within weeks, crochet was my new creative outlet, passion, and obsession. I absolutely love everything about the process of crocheting, from choosing my project to picking the colors that will go together in the most eye-pleasing way, to binge watching Netflix while I work to snipping off the very last loose end. The best part, however, is giving my projects as gifts to the people I love: my family, my friends, coworkers, even some of my students. They are my inspiration.

Just as a little girl once accepted a green chevron afghan from someone she loved, my loved ones have accepted my many crochet projects--probably whether they’ve wanted them or not. The people I love inspire me, therefore, they influence what I create. My sister bakes cupcakes so I made her a cupcake blanket with pink yarn for the wrapper and speckled yarn (called Tutti Frutti) that looks exactly like frosting with sprinkles. I’ve crocheted amigurumi to look like Rapunzel, The Joker, and Jane Austen. I’ve created a Mario blanket made of 250 granny squares sewn together (#neveragain). I’ve made a yellow baby blanket that spells out “Twinkle twinkle little star” in puff stitches to celebrate the birth of a child whose parents had spent years praying for his arrival.

A couple of people have asked me what it was that made me decide to take up crochet. I say it wasn’t a “what” that made me want to learn--it was a “who.” I think of her during the holidays. I think of her when I see a Polish recipe on Facebook. And I think of her while I’m using the inherited talent that I believe has been lying dormant until my very first crochet class more than two years ago. My Grandma Annie is my greatest inspiration when I crochet because I remember how I felt when she gave me my green afghan. When I give crocheted gifts, I hope to make the recipients feel the way I felt that day long ago--loved and appreciated beyond words.

It’s no coincidence that one of my first large crochet projects was a blanket for my dad (my grandmother’s son). It is an afghan in his favorite colors, crocheted in chevron waves. I hope my dad is proud of me and that he really does love the blanket like he said. I know my grandma is still with me, and hope that she is proud as well. I also hope that someday I will get to see her again. There are so many things I want to say to her when and if that day comes. I definitely will have to apologize to her for bothering her about when my afghan would be done. I now know as well as any that full size afghans take FOREVER to make, no matter how many episodes of Mare of Easttown or Netflix horror movies I enjoy while creating them.