Warm All Over

It was a wonderful week. My parents, one of my sisters and one of my nieces came to Charleston for a visit, and we were thrilled to have them here.

We enjoyed an early Christmas gift exchange, and Frank and I received many thoughtful things. But as I worked my way into the large gift bag from my parents, opening several gifts stacked atop each other, I caught a glimpse of something at the bottom that looked suspiciously like a crocheted blanket. My heart skipped a beat. You see, my mother crochets very well, and for as long as I can remember she has crocheted beautiful baby blankets for the new arrivals in our family. They are special gifts cherished by all lucky recipients. So as you can imagine I was quite agog. Could it be? Is this what I think it is? Is it really our turn???

I gently lifted from the gift bag not one, but two soft and cushy, handmade baby blankets. They were absolutely, breathtakingly perfect. A gorgeous light turquoise one, and a vibrant multicolored one with alternating hues of green, yellow, blue, pink, lavender and white. My heart filled to overflowing with love and appreciation for my sweet mother, which spilled over into my eyes and onto the blankets. I couldn’t hug her long enough or thank her deeply enough.

I could just imagine her patiently crocheting them, just as I had watched her do so many times as a child. Perched at the dining room table, hands moving and twisting in a repeating pattern while holding a shiny, hooked needle, weaving a single thread into a superbly organized tangle, row after row, humming a joyful tune and saying little prayers all along the way until a work of art magically emerged. Having put a great deal of thought into choosing the colors, the yarn and the pattern, and agonizing over whether or not her (fairly finicky) daughter would really like them.

Well mom, rest assured that I LOVE them. Not just because they are so pretty, but because they are priceless treasures from your heart, and from the careful toil of your hands. The same soft hands that held and fed me as a baby. The same loving hands that hugged me, brushed my hair and occasionally spanked me. The same hands that have curious ridges in the fingernails, which are exactly echoed in my own. The hands that radiate the love of a beautiful, kindhearted woman who has always done much more for others than was ever done for her.

The blankets are now waiting patiently in Habibi’s crib. For now their intent is quiescent, but their significance is not. I eagerly await the days when we tenderly swaddle the newest grandchild in these precious gifts, and find comfort that the baby will surely sleep more peacefully and have sweeter dreams when wrapped up in a grandmother’s love.

Regina's Mom and Dad (Christina and Rudy)

Regina's Sister and Niece (Sonia and Amanda)

(More family photos to come in a future post...it is a large group!)