It’s 5′ x 7′, that is five by seven feet. Unlike contemporary, machine-made models, which are much shorter and cheaper to produce, there is ample cover to reach the tippy-toes of my 6′ 1″ frame.
It has survived 32 winters.
It has served 6 homes, and is now working its 7th.
It has outlasted 10 automobiles.
And, yet here it is, working, in pristine condition, with a new car smell.
Besides our tableware, which should be replaced, it is the only wedding gift that has survived. She has long since passed, but her afghan lives on.
Is an afghan knitted or crocheted? Are they stitches or loops? I have no idea.
Eric calculated 38,260 individual loops. 38,260 hand made loops.
It is brown, green, and two shades of blue. Why these colors? The earth? Its plants and forests? Her hope for a God, for heavens? Why didn’t you ask her when she lived?
She would sit in her armchair in the living room as dusk approached and be workin’ it. Introverted, fiery and fearful. Head down, turning one loop at a time, 38,260 times.
Suppose we did our work like the snow, quietly, quietly, leaving nothing out.
~ Wendell Berry, “Like Snow” from Leavings
A wintery gust seeped through the window frame. I shivered, re-wrapped myself and let my thoughts run.
It will be passed down to Rachel, and hopefully to her children and their children. May they read this post and understand where this afghan came from, the journeys that it made, the warmth it provided.
May they feel those small sclerotic fingers of Baba, those fingers which were white as snow, who worked it one loop at a time, 38,260 times, turning it, over and over.
Working quietly.
Alone.
Inspired by Ted Kooser:
If there’s some one thing to live for, how can we choose just one among so many? Take, for example, this ordinary kitchen chair, nineteen pieces of wood, fifteen of them— the spindles and legs— turned on a lathe, the seat sawn from a plank and shaped with a scraper, some of the pieces drilled, all of them sanded, fitted together, adjusted, clamped, and glued, a good week’s work for someone fifty years ago, the dust of that workshop long since settled onto the cobwebs, the cobwebs swept away, the broom worn down and gone. Five bucks at a yard sale . Any god would be happy to be given just one good chair like this, upon which the light of hundreds of mornings has rested like grace itself, but how long has it stood there next to the kitchen table , turning first one way and then another, waiting for someone to take a moment’s notice?
~ Ted Kooser, The Wheeling Year: A Poet’s Field Book
Live & Learn 
That sir, is a wonderful story and tribute.
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Thank you Ray.
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Warming indeed! Thank you David!
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Thank you Val.
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And apparently can warm and envelop far more people than you realize.
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Yes Mimi. It does…
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You made me cry this morning. Beautiful.
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Me too. 🙂 Thank you.
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Something no doubt created with love and attention, which shows this in its durability.
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It does Alex. Thank you.
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Nice tribute to your Baba!
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Thank you Vera.
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I think it’s really wonderful that someone did something 38,000 times, with the intention of giving it to you. That’s a lot of knots and a lot of love all tied together. I happen to be making one for my son – I will (FINALLY!!!) finish it this weekend. I think he appreciates the number of knots (since I have the privilege of pointing it out to him) but I will send him your post for good measure. And finally – I believe it is crocheted 🙂
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Smiling. Thank you Moira.
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very warming–heart and otherwise
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Yes, thank you LouAnn
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heart warming
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Thanks Michael
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It’s crocheted, my Grandma made me one as a high school graduation present. Mine is the same zig zag pattern in white, red, black and gray. She was rarely sitting with idle hands, something was always being created.
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I’ve had mine 36 years.
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36 years…and counting…
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Like your description of “rarely sitting with idle hands.” Sitting, but not idle. Quiet but mind and hands whirring. Thanks for sharing.
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My Granny made me mine when I was in junior high and got to redecorate my room. This would be 1973 when olive green was the bomb. Rag rug, wall paper, bed spread, and Granny’s afghan. And, yes, I’m STILL that cool.
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Awww yes. Olive, the color of the 70’s. You are cool.
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Gramdmas crochet. Last year I became a grandma and rediscovered the pleasure of this simple art. I hope my grandson appreciates his afghan nearly as much as you do yours. Thanks for a lovely story.
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Thank you Carol. I’m sure he will…
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Warming, and heartwarming, pal. I have several such items that have been passed down to me–knit, crocheted, carved, precious….
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They are precious Lori. Thank you.
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beautiful, Dave. beautiful.
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Thank you Sandy
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Yes, it looks like it’s crocheted. What a cozy memory. A treasure.
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Thank you Anneli
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Thank-you. Such a gift of gratitude you created for us all.
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Thank you Jeanne. I appreciate your kind words. It was a gift, one which value has grown appreciably over time.
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Wonderful. When well cared for, such a gift will warm the body and the spirit for generations. And it’s great you’ve recorded its history.
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Thank you Helen. Yes, it does warm the body and the spirit.
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oh, so lovely. what a wonderful post, david. thank you for sharing with us.
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Thank you Vicki
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A hand-made story about something hand-made; I feel the energy and the spirit. Such a good thing to share with the world, thank you…
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Thank you for the kind words.
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Smile…I received my red and white crochet afghan when I was a teen. It was made by the loving hands of my grandmother. Every-time I place it over me, I feel a hug from my long deceased grandmother. When I was married we purchased a summer weight wool Pendleton blanket with some wedding money..We have washed it so many times, hung it on the line and at times dried on low in the dryer. It has served us well. It is getting thinner in its advanced age.PS we purchased a large crochet afghan at a thrift store, my husband says it is too heavy and he calls it a rug, ha 🙂
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Smiling back at you. I could feel this: “Every-time I place it over me, I feel a hug from my long deceased grandmother.” Beautiful Christie.
And I’m smiling at your husband characterization of the thrift store afghan, the acquired ones just to fit/feel right. 🙂
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That’s a beautiful story…and it makes me think of the crocheted curtain that I keep in a box…that I made myself when my first born child was a baby. It took forever to make, so I can’t part with it…and will most likely pass it on to one of my children, just so that they know it’s something their mom made when she was at home as a new mom. Anyway, I love how you have written this loving story. Thank you David.
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Thank you for the kind words Carol. And thanks for sharing the story on the crocheted curtain. Wonderful legacy that you will pass on….
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You have reminded me of the afghan my great grandmother crocheted for my mother. It was purple and white and she made it for her when was born. I was the first great grandchild and grandchild and my great grandmother crocheted a small version for me. Over the years, the small one became a blanket for dolls and, like most all my toys, was discarded in some fashion. The larger version stayed with me through college, law school, break-ups; and then, somehow vanished. I haven’t thought about it in such a long time. Thanks you for sharing your beautiful memories and evoking mine.
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Thanks for sharing your story Carolann. Wonderful memories.
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a rosary of affection, created with 38, 260 loops.
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As a knitter, I thank you. People have no idea that as I am making a gift for someone I am thinking of that person. Of how the emerald green it will be beautiful with her red hair. Of him working outside and how I will make mittens because they are the warmest, but they will have a removable flap so he can still work his phone. With every loop I’m imagining the soft pink wool on a tender pale newborn that we have yet to meet. So often we knitters, crocheters, quilters, and the rest offer a gift that we have spent days, weeks, or months making, and it is met with the same or less enthusiasm than that of a mass produced object. It cuts very deeply.
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What a wonderful characterization of the process. Moving. Thanks for sharing Virginia. Amazing.
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I need to bang on the LOVE button for your comment.
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I’ve had the same blanket since 1985(only 30 years). Got it in Tijuana, Mexico for $4. However I have had this beat up old body for 65 years. Thanks visit my blog.
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🙂 Thanks for sharing Carl.
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