December 25, 2014: I got socks! No ordinary socks, mind you. For over a year, I’ve watched my sister knit. Industrious, busy hands that worked that fine, thin, wool yarn in to one foot-shaped sock, and then another. At every family gathering, she’d knit, knit, knit. I’d make jokes … “you know they sell those at the store.” “Can you imagine how much those things are worth at your hourly rate?” She’d miss a knit one, pearl two, or some other knitting blunder … #$%! … unravel … restart. Knit, knit, knit. Despite my teasing, I WANTED those socks. Thick wool, beautiful, ombre color of autumn. I’d ask her if she was going to give them to me at Christmas or for my birthday. She’d just smile, and knit, knit, knit. Despite my jokes, I knew that with all the heart and effort that went in to those socks, she’d end up wearing them … not me. But I was wrong. Last night, I got the socks. I love them, and I love you, sister.
