False Identity

This isn’t the first time I have turned to knitting to escape the unwelcome reality of life.  In 2008 I lost my job.  It wasn’t just a job, I lost my career.  I had worked at corporate headquarters for a big box retailer for 23 years!  Longer than my youngest son was alive at the time, only one year less than my oldest son’s age.  I held several positions in middle management, and was quite proud of my accomplishments. Single mom raising two boys without their dad’s influence, decent job with a national retailer…what’s not to be proud of right?  What do you mean you don’t want me to come to work on Monday!  What do you mean, pack up 23 years of stuff and go home.  Go home and do what?  

It was amazing to me how much my identity was tied up with that stinking job.  I couldn’t say I was a buyer for so and so, I could now only say I was once a buyer for so and so.  Hum, it really didn’t provide the same amount of smug pride that it did when I got paid to go there every day.  Anyway, I pulled up my big girl panties, wiped my nose and dried my tears and moved on.  But to what?  To be perfectly honest, after 23 years of giving my life to a company, making my life the company, I wasn’t sure that I had more to give.  I wanted to just be.

Now I have to say, I have a wonderful husband.  Turns out the first marriage was just training for the real thing.  I have two wonderful sons from my first marriage, but the man behind door number two is the real deal.  He is the most supportive and encouraging person I have every come in contact with, and I love him with all my heart.  I don’t believe two people could be more miss matched, but that’s another story.

Love him to death!hx17

Anyway, as I was saying, I didn’t know what to do.  I didn’t have anywhere to be during the week.  My boys were no longer living at home.  As a matter of fact, it was the same year my youngest son went off to college/Army.  Talk about life changing all a once!  So anyhow, I decided that I would take up knitting.  There was a really cute little shop down the street from me. So I went in and told them I wanted to learn.  What a fabulous group of ladies….”Pull up a chair” they said, “sit a while.”  And sit I did.  Not only did I learn to knit, but I made the most fab afghan.  I would go there and spend my day, just knitting and chatting.  I really think those ladies saved my sanity!  IMG_0340


Coping With Life and Death

Last week I attended a class to learn how to knit socks.  I arrived early, picked my seat and waited for the class to begin.  Five women walked into the room and sat down. Since we didn’t know each other, the instructor asked us to give our name and tell why we were there.  Obviously we were all there to learn to knit socks, right? Then why, when it came to my turn did I state my name and say “I’m learning to knit socks because my sister died”.  Well you could have heard a pin drop.  Who says such a thing when they meet a group of strangers?  Evidently I do!

And let me tell you, I am not knitting any old pair of socks, I am knitting a $100 pair of socks.  When I added up what it cost I was astounded at what I spent to avoid dealing with my sister’s death.  $40 for the class, $19 for the book, $9 for the needles, and $30 for the wool!  I am going to have the most expensive socks on the block.  They will need to by dry cleaned they are so valuable.  They better come out well.

Did you know that knitting socks require the manipulation of five needles at a time.  I am talking little, double pointed needles.  Now I am not that coordinated, but I seem to be doing ok.  After two weeks of knitting this is what I have….I like pink…not bad for a newbie.IMG_0940