It's been a long, strange summer. I was very ill this spring and summer, as was my father in law. I recovered, but sadly, he did not. Lou is in the final days/weeks of his life, and he's still teaching us all.
Lou went from being uncomfortable to being hospitalized over the period of a couple of weeks. He is in incredible pain, but he never complains. He's calm, patient, funny, and dignified. His only concerns are for the welfare of his family. Though bedridden at home now, he still wants to babysit his great-grandchildren. Though unable to keep solid food down, he still tried his granddaughter's "healthy" smoothie, to be polite. It didn't go well, but I'll never forget the gesture.
I wanted to help him somehow, and as a knitter I realized making an afghan would be a natural choice. His favorite color is blue - "not too dark, but like the sky today. It's always been blue." But by the time I had sourced the yarn, I realized I'll never finish it in time for him to see or enjoy it.
I'm doing the standard family vigil, caring for my mother in law, doing her housekeeping, serving coffee to out of town relatives, and hearing all the family stories that go by in these times. Everyone is laughing and visiting, including Lou. He once had a red convertible, and my mother in law used to drive it when they were dating even though she hadn't had lessons or a license. Lou's grandfather used to make wine in the basement, and he had a special way of leaving the spigot so he could tell if anyone had been "tasting" it. The "kids", now in their late fifties, just learned how he always caught them!
Lou greets and thanks each visitor for coming. He stays awake and makes conversation for hours, but the moment guests leave he closes his eyes and sleeps. He doesn't do it out of pride. It's respect for the people who've made the effort to visit. Even though he's too weak to walk, he wants to holds the babies. He'll keep tasting the food pressed on him by well-meaning loved ones. That's Lou - kind, funny, respectful, patient, and dignified. He's shown us how to live, and he's teaching us how to die.
I think I'll make the blanket anyway. It will be impossible to work on it or use it without thinking of the kind man who inspired it. I'll share the pattern with you soon.
Lou went from being uncomfortable to being hospitalized over the period of a couple of weeks. He is in incredible pain, but he never complains. He's calm, patient, funny, and dignified. His only concerns are for the welfare of his family. Though bedridden at home now, he still wants to babysit his great-grandchildren. Though unable to keep solid food down, he still tried his granddaughter's "healthy" smoothie, to be polite. It didn't go well, but I'll never forget the gesture.
I wanted to help him somehow, and as a knitter I realized making an afghan would be a natural choice. His favorite color is blue - "not too dark, but like the sky today. It's always been blue." But by the time I had sourced the yarn, I realized I'll never finish it in time for him to see or enjoy it.
I'm doing the standard family vigil, caring for my mother in law, doing her housekeeping, serving coffee to out of town relatives, and hearing all the family stories that go by in these times. Everyone is laughing and visiting, including Lou. He once had a red convertible, and my mother in law used to drive it when they were dating even though she hadn't had lessons or a license. Lou's grandfather used to make wine in the basement, and he had a special way of leaving the spigot so he could tell if anyone had been "tasting" it. The "kids", now in their late fifties, just learned how he always caught them!
Lou greets and thanks each visitor for coming. He stays awake and makes conversation for hours, but the moment guests leave he closes his eyes and sleeps. He doesn't do it out of pride. It's respect for the people who've made the effort to visit. Even though he's too weak to walk, he wants to holds the babies. He'll keep tasting the food pressed on him by well-meaning loved ones. That's Lou - kind, funny, respectful, patient, and dignified. He's shown us how to live, and he's teaching us how to die.
I think I'll make the blanket anyway. It will be impossible to work on it or use it without thinking of the kind man who inspired it. I'll share the pattern with you soon.
5 comments:
I, too, am sitting a vigil this summer, though it will last years. And Knitting is helping me through it all. I can't wait to see your blanket. It is a fitting tribute to a wonderful man.
I can't wait to see your blanket too! :)
What a wonderful post. Thank you for sharing. As I was reading your post, I kept hoping that you were going to go ahead and make the blanket. It will be special to work on.
Lou sounds like someone who would want to see the blue you chose and want to follow your progress on the blanket. I hope you are sharing the process with him.
The yarn is on order, but taking its time to arrive. Time, of course, that we don't have. I'd at least like Lou to see the color, even though he likely won't see the finished product. Waiting...
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