I’ve been crocheting for years. Well, let me back up. I learned when I was a kid–just basic stuff, single crochet. Then I picked it back up in the early 2000’s & then stopped for some reason–which was probably boredom or lack of creativity on my part which then led to boredom. I kept my hooks and what little yarn I had accumulated and put it away. I had unfinished projects (Works in Progress, WIPs) that were also stored away in a closet. I wanted to hold on to the stuff because I thought maybe I’d return to it some day.

In 2020 one of my closest & dearest friends, Judy, died. We knew each other for 20 years. 20 years wasn’t nearly long enough. We had worked together for 17 years (met at work, actually) talked in some form every day….and then she was just.. gone. I didn’t get to say goodbye to her. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that Gemini buddy/twin was not here anymore. I didn’t know what to do but cry and mourn her. Even though I could hear her telling me that ‘crying gives you wrinkles, so stop that.’ In a word, grief is an asshole. It’s always present in some form or another. You think you’re doing okay and healing, but then grief is like, “Hey, remember me?” and then you break down again. Someone I like and follow on the ‘gram said it best, “…synapses in my brain trying to remap themselves to accommodate this permanent change in geography.” And that’s exactly it.

I didn’t know what to do with my grief (and anger if I’m being honest). I looked back at crochet and thought, ‘yea. let’s do that.’ So, in early 2020 (pre-Pandemic) I bought more yarn and watched countless YouTube videos and relearned crochet. I subscribed to my favorite creators and learned so much from them. I learned new stitches, and Tunisian crochet as well (so neat!). I made so many stitch samples. Which then turned into So. Many. Scarves. Everyone got a scarf whether they’d asked for it or not. I made myself a bunch of them it was ridiculous. I also made several cat blankets to the point that my cat must’ve thought, ‘OK, that’s enough.’ I would spend hours crocheting. And, I realized that It made me feel better. I was doing something else to occupy my brain and not cry all day. I wouldn’t call it an escape though; it felt more like a meditation to me. Plus, I found a tiny bit of joy & pride at being able to create something with my hands. It’s not a “cure all”, but I think beyond running & cycling, it helped me process things while at the same time be present in my thoughts.

I continue to crochet and have amassed a lot of yarn. I have an Etsy store too. (selling stuff is harder than I had thought. That’s another story for another time). But, what I think will happen is that I’m going to donate what I’ve made–scarves, shawls, wraps, cat blankets, baby blankets. I hope that what I make brings someone a bit of joy. Something that I made with my own two hands, initially out of grief and in darkness, but turned into something that brought me a range of emotions…the predominant one being joy. Joy that I’m able to crochet, but also joy (and gratefulness) that I had such a lovely, dear friend for so long. I miss my friend and think of her often. Especially when I come across some yarn that’s in her colors (purple was her favorite, like me). I think to myself, ‘Man, Judy would really like this.’ I guess the synapses have re-mapped to some degree….and I will keep crocheting.