Why I Started Knitting

Without meaning to, my grandmother inspired a love of color and texture with her crocheted Afghans and slippers. I would watch her expertly move her shiny hook around strands of acrylic yarns purchased on our various trips to Shopko and K-Mart. I asked her to teach me, but my attention span did not have the bandwidth to learn this skill just yet. 

I learned to weave in third grade while learning about indigenous people. I spent hours with my little cardboard loom, and my grandma was so kind to me and let me have some of the yarn she had left over from other projects. I practiced changing colors and taught myself how to carry each strand of a different color along the edges. I made so many rugs for my home-made doll houses. I wanted to make BIG things, though. And to do that, I knew learning how to knit or crochet would have to happen. 

As I grew and progressed through school, my weavings found their way into the back of my closet, and I forgot about them. 

When I graduated from high school in 2001, my grandma (my other grandma this time) was recovering from foot surgery, and my family needed help getting her back and forth to appointments. I gladly volunteered to drive to Westby and bring her to La Crosse or Onalaska for her appointments. We usually met my aunt for lunch before or after the appointment, and it was a great opportunity for me to have some extra time with my grandma. 

The trouble showed up in the waiting rooms. 

I had the absolute worst time sitting still. I drove Grandma completely crazy wanting to look in her purse. Wanting to know if she had any hard candy. Wanting to know if she had any gum. If there were buttons somewhere, I was pushing them. Grandma, being a stoic and proper Norwegian woman would get agitated by the energy vibrating off of me. I now know that what I was experiencing was anxiety. Grandma did not know then how much the next thing she would say would change my life. 

She said, "Gee whiz. You should learn how to knit or something, so you can sit still when we have to wait. You ate all of my life savers. You've looked at my driver's license. I don't have any crackers in here. I don't have any idea how much this building weighs." (I ask random things and initiate random conversations when I am tense. Hello again, anxiety!)

Knitting. 

Then I remembered Grandma Violet's crocheting. I remembered how much I had wanted to learn how to do it. Grandma Violet passed away when I was 13. We didn't ever get to have our lessons, but I still wanted to learn these ancient arts. It gives me a connection to both of my beloved grans. Grandma Violet for showing me that yarn was not only something beautiful, but it was important.  And Grandma Elaine for reminding me that this hobby existed and for reigniting my interest in it.

In the right hands, a ball of yarn can become warmth for people. It can become an item that is handed down from generation to generation. It can become things your kids will argue over when you die. 

And it can transform the anxious energy so many of us deal with into something tangible that proves we can do hard things. 

It took a long time for me to be comfortable calling myself a "knitter". For a long time, all I did was knit back and forth in endless yards of garter stitch. When I felt content that I had the motions and muscle memory built up to form the knit stitch without much thought, I moved on to the purl. Once I had them both cemented in my subconscious, I alternated knit and purl. I crossed knit stitches over one another and beautiful cables grew from my needles. I intentionally made yarn overs and knit two togethers, slip, slip knit, and make one stitches and rows of lace would appear and bring me joy. 

I have been knitting for 25 years. I have taught many people how to knit and helped many people with challenging projects. I've knit while waiting in line to vote, trick-or-treating, in church, in meetings, and in many waiting rooms. 

And everyone who has been in all of those rooms has Grandma Elaine to thank for the peacefulness knitting provides. 

Share the peace. 

Glena