Home-knitted jerseys, cardigans, scarves, socks and beanies were once a regular feature of my wardrobe. From an early age I was adorned in pattern-perfect pink, white or baby blue apparel, each garment painstakingly knitted by my grandmother. In latter years my cupboards are filled with store-bought items, ones that don’t hold as much meaning and care as the items from my childhood did. I no longer hold the culture of making something, if my dad wants socks he buys them, if my brother needs a jersey, it’s store-bought. It is seldom, perhaps never, considered how much more something homemade can mean, the trial and error behind every stitch, the complexity of pattern and the meaning that comes with something made especially for you.
When I was four years old my grandmother, who I call Gaga, began to suffer terribly with osteo-arthritis and was forced to give up her knitting. With this assignment I have slowly realised what has been lost through her inability to knit. When she is gone, the knowledge and perfectionism that she brings to the skill will be gone too. Knitting from patterns, and creating my own clothing/garments has never really crossed my mind, although at school-level the few girls who did knit their own winter scarves seemed to relish in the experience. I would also imagine that, perhaps, to be able to one day knit something for someone, as a gift, would be a very rewarding and fulfilling experience.
I have hence undertaken the task of learning how to read and knit from a pattern. Gaga has agreed to help me, and her and I are meeting every day to knit together. She offers her guidance and skill-set, but cannot always demonstrate for long periods of time given her arthritis. This time also offers a valuable opportunity to learn so much more from her, and about her. The knitting is a catalyst to conversation, and will open doors to learn more about my grandmother and the amazing life that she has lived.
- Kate
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