My mom died twelve days ago. It was unexpected, and it happened fast. I got a phone call from my dad at 5:00 in the morning, I got a plane ticket, flew down, got a car, drove down, got to her bedside at 7:00 that night, and a little more than an hour later, she was gone.
I can’t even begin to describe our shock and sadness. My mother and I were incredibly close; we talked almost every day, and I could tell her anything (and she was actually interested to hear it!). I was fortunate to have had extra time with her in the last few months, because my father had been through some medical crises and I went home to help take care of her (she became a paraplegic in 1997 after malignant melanoma went to her spine and broke her back, and my father was her full-time caregiver). Those days with her were so precious to me at the time, and all the more so now.
This had already been a very difficult summer for a number of reasons. Through it all, my spinning and knitting (much of which I did sitting next to my mom) helped keep me balanced and centered. But now? All of a sudden I can’t seem to do either one. I haven’t spun since my dad had a medical emergency mid-July (the last day of Tour de Fleece). And I haven’t knit a stitch since the day my mother died.
It’s so strange. I look at my knitting and it feels like it was something a different person used to do.
I assume this is only temporary. I think this week I’m going to try to make myself pick up the sticks and knit. One of these days I’ll maybe even get back in the blogging groove (I do have a whole backlog of projects to show you, most of which are handspun).
Have you ever been so sad, or so disoriented that you couldn’t even do the thing you loved most to do? If so, how did you move through and beyond that?