Just so you can see how big it is, I put the coffee thing next to it. It's my shameless plug (Shop at whole foods! My mama works there!) And no, that's not a monster-sized cup. It's just like the ones you get at starbucks. The coffee thing was just the nearest thing on hand when I was taking the picture...
And here's a closeup!
So tomorrow I'm going to send it off to the family and hopefully they'll appreciate it. I'm proud of myself for finishing the project, but even more than that, I'm proud because it's flawed. There are some holes (don't ask me how they got there) and at one point I started to purl when I needed to knit and then as I was frogging those stitches, I said, wait.
This blanket needs to be flawed.
Yes, it's a gift... but handmade blankets are a representation of the person who made it. It has all the blood, sweat, and tears weaved into it's very being. This blanket is just like me... Not perfect.
The boy who will snuggle up to this blanket is not perfect either, nor will he ever be. When he grows up and is 7 or 8, he'll be devious and smirk and retort to his parents. When he's 12, he'll likely never leave his xbox or playstation, when he's 15, his parents will be 'ruining his life' and he'll be insecure, and when he's old enough to get married and have children of his own, he'll stumble over all the same things he made his parents stumble all over. This blanket, in short, signifies life itself.
Life which he grasps by only a few fingers.
So why shouldn't we take both our hands, our able bodies, and throw our arms around life when we have it?
No comments:
Post a Comment