My Legacy Crochet Project — Part One
After spending 93 days in the hospital, I came home and eventually decided it was time to do something besides sit and watch television.
I needed something to occupy my hands and my mind, and crocheting seemed like a good place to begin.
About that same time, some members of my family were planning a visit to my cousin Sherry for a milestone birthday. I wished I had made her something special, but there simply wasn’t enough time.
Then I had an idea. Why not start an afghan, send her a little piece of it for her birthday, and promise that the rest would follow?
And that’s exactly what I did.
Little did I know that this would be the beginning of what I now call my Legacy Crochet Project.
Iona’s Ozark Dawn
I wanted Sherry’s afghan to reflect the soft, lovely colors of an Ozark dawn.
Sherry had lived in the Ozarks for a while, and she had also spent summers visiting our grandparents at the Lake of the Ozarks.
I chose pink for the rosy sunrise, gray for the rocks surrounding the lake, tan for the sandy beaches, and white for the fluffy clouds floating overhead.
I named it Iona’s Ozark Dawn, in honor of our grandmother and those long-ago summers.
Ma and Grandad had stayed at a resort called Twin Bays, and I was delighted to find photographs of it when I went looking online. After finishing the afghan, I enlisted the help of my new friend ChatGPT to create memory pictures that brought my crocheted creation together with those places from our past.
But there’s something else I want to tell you about Sherry.
Years ago, when I was approaching 25 years of teaching, I was struggling with a decision. Should I retire then, or continue until I had completed 30 years of service?
Sherry was a veteran teacher who had already retired, so I called her one day to ask what she thought.
She hesitated.
“Oh, I hate to give advice,” she said, “but I somehow know that you will really enjoy these years with your parents. If you retire, you’ll have more time to spend with your mom and dad.”
Nothing could have been more true.
During those next five years, I taught half days, and almost every day afterward I met Mom and Dad.
They would smile and ask, “What are we going to do today?”
Usually, they already had a few ideas!
We traipsed around the countryside of northeast Missouri, visiting little towns, eating at different restaurants, and exploring whatever caught our fancy. Sometimes we ate along the road, and sometimes Mom packed a picnic.
We seldom traveled more than a few hours, and we were usually home by suppertime.
Those were glorious days.
My parents were adventurous, fun, and loving, and they were wonderful traveling companions. We didn’t need to go anywhere special to have a marvelous time.
At the end of those five years, Daddy passed away, and I moved in with Mom to become her caregiver. But our adventures continued. Mom and I rambled around the countryside, visited Amish communities, and found plenty of ways to enjoy ourselves.
I have never regretted those five years of early retirement before I moved in here.
Not once.
And I have always credited Sherry with giving me one of the greatest gifts anyone could have given me: more time with my mom and dad.
Sherry is strong and brave and beautiful. She has a soft, melodic voice that always seems to have a little laughter tucked inside it.
I hope that when she wraps herself in Iona’s Ozark Dawn, she feels a little of the love and gratitude I stitched into it.
Bodie’s Dinosaur Dream
My next creation was for the newest little member of our Miller clan.
I named his baby afghan Bodie’s Dinosaur Dream.
It was a cheerful little welcome to the family, made especially for him. By now, I suspect Bodie has nearly outgrown it, but that’s the nature of baby blankets, isn’t it?
Babies grow, blankets become keepsakes, and perhaps someday someone will tell him that his afghan was made especially for him by someone who was delighted to welcome him into the family.
Marshall Road Morning
This winter, I took a little detour from the family legacy and created a couple of friendship afghans.
The first was for a lovely young couple who purchased the house where I used to live.
They have been so very kind to me, and I wanted to make something special for them.
I named their afghan Marshall Road Morning. It was their house warming gift. And the night I gave her to this sweet couple, they shared a gift with me, a new baby coming to live at Marshall Road.
For years, I slept in a bedroom with an east-facing bay window, and nearly every morning the rising sun welcomed me into a new day.
I loved that house. I loved waking up there. And I loved those peaceful mornings on Marshall Road.
I hope this young couple will be as happy in that home as I was. I have a feeling they will be.
Adrienne’s Philly Rose
Another friendship afghan went to my friend Adrienne, who lives in Florida. Her son is her caregiver and just the dearest man I know.
Adrienne suffered a stroke several years ago and has had to negotiate a world that isn’t always easy for her.
I enjoy making things for her, and I hope that having something new and pretty to look at brings a little extra joy into her days.
Because Adrienne originally came from Philadelphia, I decided that Adrienne’s Philly Rose was just the right name for her afghan.
A rose for a lady from Philly.
Sometimes that’s all the reason a name needs.
Iona’s Pansy Garden
Then it was back to the family.
My cousin Paula has loved pansies for as long as I can remember, and so have I.
In fact, Paula was one of the first people I ever knew who planted pansies in both fall and spring. She takes advantage of every little snippet of planting season she can find!
That reminds me so much of our grandparents.
Ma and Granddad were exquisite gardeners, and Paula has certainly inherited their love of growing beautiful things.
Pansies have always reminded both of us of Ma. Their cheerful little faces, rich velvety colors, and determination to bloom when other flowers have given up are all part of their charm.
But Paula and I share much more than a love of pansies.
Throughout my life, Paula has been the closest thing I’ve had to a sister. She has brought beautiful bouquets to my mother and to me, sharing the flowers she grows so lovingly. Her kindness has been a constant in my life.
So I created Iona’s Pansy Garden, using the vivid colors of those beloved flowers.
I also created a memory picture using an actual photograph of Ma’s sweet backyard, filled with the flowers she loved so much.
Although I missed Paula’s birthday by a mile, I hope that whenever she sees her afghan, she thinks of Ma and that beautiful garden.
More Stitches, More Memories
Of course, I originally thought I might save some of these afghans for Christmas.
But anyone who knows me knows that I am not particularly good at waiting to give a gift once it’s finished!
So these afghans have already gone to their new homes, and I’m glad. Now their recipients can enjoy them during the months leading up to Christmas, and I can turn my attention to other holiday projects.
And my crochet hook wasn’t finished.
There were more cousins to remember, more friends to celebrate, and a few afghans that seemed to have personalities all their own.
One even refused to tell me her name!
But that’s a story for Part Two.
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