Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Love always hopes
Grandma's afghan, color of cream straight from the cow, thick wicket shell stitch, crocheted with the knowledge of freezing Kansas winters in a house heated only by bricks under the covers at night. Crocheted for my hope chest so that I would be warm in cold weather, whether inside or outside my home.
I love my grandmother for thinking of the difficulties I might face ahead and making me a king sized cover of 30 lb homemade armor for home so heavy in love that it needs a commercial washer. Each shell a practice of love, over and over, again and again, thousands of times the way I need to practice dense patterns of hope tightly packed with love, done over and over, again and again, thousands of times.