The days when our Grandmothers were young and their primary roles were to keep the children clean, the home tidy and the dinner warm, those seem to be better days. At least that's how I feel when I'm overwhelmed by all that I have to do on a given day. Certainly though, those were simpler days free from the internet, not much TV, no cell phones, and no intrusive adversements. People exchanged information and sentiments through written or spoken word.
I often think about my Grandmother, especially when I'm snuggled up in the warm and cozy afghan that she crocheted for me, with the intricate details of the Celtic knots. I take it for granted, how much time and work went into weaving the delicate yarn into such adorned patterns. I've always wanted to learn the craft of crochet.
After Graduate school, I worked as an Adult Day Center Director for a Hospice. I scheduled and ran many of the therapeutic activities for older adults, some with Alzheimers and other Dementia and memory disorders. I remember they loved to just sit and sew or crochet something for me. I can't tell you how many small blankets, scarves, and little holiday stockings I brought home.
I also remember the contented and peaceful feeling that I saw in these people. The pride and satisfaction they had when they told me about their younger lives, their families, the wars they've lived through. This kind of peace and rest is something that I look forward to having one day when I'm their age. For now though, when I need to feel grounded and rested, I'll just snuggle back into my Grandmother's afghan, to appreciate simpler times.
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