And Then There was Peace

The holiday spirit was welling up in me so much last week that I felt brimmed full. There was a trip to Portland and time with family there that I was truly looking forward to. And then I got the call.

My Dad, at 87 years of age, had been slowly failing for some time. His witty conversation had turned to listening and his movement around my parent's modest home was an effort. In mid-November he was diagnosed with inoperable and untreatable lung cancer and given 3 months to a year to live. My kids as well as all his other grandchildren had made special effort to see him. My youngest son had planned for about a month to come to the farm and spend several days in the house with him from December 19-24.

Despite having left the house on Dember 17 to see a Xmas light show, on December 18 Dad could no longer support his own weight, was taken to the local hospital by ambulance, checked out thoroughly and then returned home. Dad had been getting hospice care for a few weeks, but the care drastically changed that day. Luckily most of us from a ways away made it home to say our goodbyes. He waited for me to arrive on Sunday evening before he would rest. By 2:10 am on Tuesday, December 22 he had passed away.

For the distance in miles parts of my family put between other parts we are strong as a unit. Family members pitched in for overnight sessions to make sure if Dad needed anything there was someone there to fulfill those needs. He died in no real pain, smiling to the bitter end because he had lived a fruitful, meaningful, rich life.

I will be staying on the farm until the end of the year to help Mom get reoriented, but she is one tough bird and was in as many ways as possible ready for this new chapter in her life. After the troubled breathing Dad had had for some time it is reassuring he is now at long last at peace.

Comments

Anatomy of a Sock

I've been knitting socks for a relatively short time. One of the disconcerting things for me as I started following patterns for socks is the pattern designer assumes the knitter (in this case that would be me) knows all the parts of a sock. So I thought I'd devote a post to improve my own knowledge about the anatomy of a sock and maybe some of you will learn something about the humble yet necessary sock as well. Here's the names of the parts of the foot as I know them. #49 ankle, #50 heel, #51, instep, #52 ball, #53 big toe, #54 toe, #55 little toe, #56 toenail. There are some parts more important for this discussion; first the heel of a foot is generally used to refer to the entire C-shape from the ankle to the instep. Speaking of the instep, it refers to that curve near the bottom of the foot. And what seems to be missing in the design above is the sole which generally refers to the bottom of the foot in total or plantar aspect in more technical terms. (BTW

Ode to the Cat

It has been six months since Mike, the cat's, passing. I think of him every day and miss him especially when Paul is away. Mike was a being in the house with me and we were close. Grieving his death has been muddled with my Dad's passing and sometimes I feel guilty about that happening. As time passes the ache becomes less hurtful for both and I am starting to get mostly good memories in its place. Recently I helped celebrate Pablo Neruda's birthday with Jami, my poet and overall very creative friend. Guests were asked to select one poem written by Neruda to read to the small group who gathered for the celebration. I picked this one: Ode To The Cat -- Pablo Neruda There was something wrong with the animals: their tails were too long, and they had unfortunate heads. Then they started coming together, little by little fitting together to make a landscape, developing birthmarks, grace, flight. But the cat, only the cat turned out finished, and

Knitting-Related Guinness World Records

I had to share some of the Guinness World Records connected with knitting. It is amazing to me the type of skill, stamina and unique characteristics these record holders have in common. How about trying to knit with these SPNs?? Ingrid Wagner and her large needles and knitted swatch The largest knitting needles measured 3.5 m (11 ft 5.8 in) long and had a diameter of 8 cm (3.15 in). Ingrid Wagner, a rug and art creation artist, from the UK used the needles to knit a tension square of ten stitches by ten rows at the Metro Radio Arena, Newcastle upon Tyne, UK, on March, 10 2008. (And I complained about getting certain SPNs stuck in my clothes.) See how this swatch was done with merely 5 people managing the needles. And what about the yarn? It is truly ex-bulky. It looks like they're knitting in a warehouse, but with a wingspan of almost 24 feet or 7 m, you'd need all that space. Or how about the longest piece of finger knitting that measured 4,321.4 m

Flagel Knitting Files

Search This Blog