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Your post brings tears to my eyes, and I don't know your aunt! I hope that I might knit for 70 years, and that my needles will remain organized! Thank you for sharing!


That is,indeed,so very sad. But what a good,long,knitterly life.


This post breaks my heart.




I am amazed that she knit for 72 years. The picture speaks volumes reflecting her life. What a beautiful post.


I hear your sadness and I admire the woman you have described.

Lee Ann

Sending you a ginormous hug, and in two weeks, will actually give you one. You're a marvelous niece for documenting this knitter's bits and pieces and honoring her former glory.

Knitting Pompeii. Okay, now *I'm* going to go have a cry...

lisa Co.  Springs

Oh Laurie...what a sweet, dear post. She sounds like a wonderful woman, and she left a remarkable path to follow. So many of us have similar memories of Grandmothers and Aunties, we could probably write a pretty good book---and have a good cry in the process. Thanks so much for sharing.


A hug from me, too. There are no words...


Oh hon. I'm so sorry.

I hope you finish that sweater and give it to her. It's beautiful, and now I know where your color sense comes from. She's given you something profound.


What a wonderful story full of neat memories. Thanks for sharing.

Teresa C

This is such a touching post, bringing to mind the wonderful past of you aunt and our mothers, sisters, aunts, etc., and reminding us of a glimpse of our futures. Off to make hay while the sun shines. Okay, no Herrick there, but the sentiment....


Such a life she has enjoyed and additionally blessed with the care of a niece who truly appreciates the gifts she gave and continues to give, even though her mind is waning. Extending a warm hand on your shoulder and some extra tissues.


A vengeful disease. I lost my Dad that way. Hugs to both of you!


Oh boy. I'm sorry for your grief, Laurie. And all we can do is hope that none of us come to this. But it we do, then we can also know that we will be there for each other. Hugs, dear friend.


I did this about 5 years ago - my aunt hadn't knitted or anything for awhile because she was legally blind And lived on her own until she was 90 and while her mind was good her body wasn't anymore - I so understand the feelings of going thru everything and sadness. We are going thru dementia with my MIL now - Your aunt is blessed to have you in her life -


While the last sweater is sad to see unfinished it is an amazing legacy of over 70 years knitting that is to be remember. Wouldn't it be wonderful to be able to knit for that many years. She sounds like a marvelous woman. The table looks well used and loved, too. That isn't meant to take away from the sadness or from the horrible desease that has limited her abilities. (I tend to be a pollyanna.)

Caroline M

I'm so sorry and yet it's better that she doesn't mourn the loss of her skills. We all have UFO's (well nearly all of us), unfinished for one reason or another. Unfinished because of loss of skills is much more sad than unfinished because of running out of yarn or poor yarn choice.

I was given the stash of a lady who I never knew in life. Sorting through it I learned her favorite colours, that she had a lot of babies to knit for and what schools her grandchildren went to (there was a lot of the school uniforn green). I feel a link to Mrs B whenever I use a ball from her stash, although I never knew her I think of her often.


i'm sorry for your auntie.


You are fortunate to have he rin your life, and fortunate to have been aware of your good fortune; and she is fortunate to be related to someone both perceptive and eloquent.


I'll look at my life/stash/UFOs with more awareness. Hugs to you. Blessings to your aunt.


Thank you for this post. I have an 85 year old grandmother who is still working along on some crafty things but those with needles - knitting or otherwise - have been put to the side due to the terrible shakes she has in her hand becasue of medication. I feel sad to live so far from her but happy when we can spend a day together. She is always glad to climb in my car for the yarn shop even if she can't be doing it herself.


it is sad to see those we love go in such ways. my grandmother taught me to crochet, and the last few months that she was in the nursing home, she wasn't the same lady. my grandma was always sharp as a tack, and willing to call a spade a damned shovel! it was hard to see her confused, and vague, and most importantly, not crocheting.


The patina of the picnic table is an amazing metaphor for the patina we humans acquire over the years. Sad and beautiful at the same time.


Oh, L. I hope that you can finish the sweater. I'm so glad that you posted the picture and shared you auntie.


I'd frame that sweater, exactly as it is, needles and all. It's a beautiful thing.


Its rare to have a post touch so deeply, your love and thoughtfulness shone brightly. Go take your cry, and know that there are those of us "out there" taking a bit of a cry with you. Your aunt has given you a gift.


My good neighbor once showed me the last picture her husband -- a superb artist -- drew as his Alzheimer's advanced. It was done in Sharpie, and showed a human figure being surrounded and submerged in big, thick, swirling lines. Apparently he drew that picture, put down the pen, and never went back into his studio.

Your aunt's sweater-in-progress is a lovely, poignant thing. I agree with Stephanie ... keep it just as it is.


Lucky Aunties that have someone loving them enough to read their knitting projects.

I think I'll go finish that sweater for my nephew right now. Hopefully, someday he will know the love that goes into these and whether he liked them or not, he knew what I was saying.


Sad -- the unraveling. Yet all your memories are still there.


Brings tears to my eyes as well. We all can only hope for as many happy and healthy knitting years. Doesn't make it any easier when they have to end though. Hugs to you.


Thank you for sharing such a lovely post. Last weekend I flew home to see my grandfather, for what will probably be the last time. It was a lot harder than I would have thought, even though he's been so sick for so long.


As heartbreaking as this story is, I think that your auntie is blessed to have a niece like you, who not only understands what an important role knitting can play in our lives, but will cherish all her notions and FOs, even after she no longer can.


Melissa G

Knitting Pompeii indeed. You have my best wishes for your aunt's autumn and winter.


A beautiful post to a wonderful woman, I am sure she would love the things that you wrote about her. When my grandmother died, I was the benificiary of all her knitting tools, and all the UFOs that she was in process with before she died. They made me sad for a while, but I finished 2 of her projects, and I used her needles and stitch holders every day. You must have a shared a winderful relationship with her. And the picnic table is a wonderful metaphor for all things life...

Beth S.

Oh Laurie! What a sad task. No wonder we haven't heard much from you lately.

I'm so glad Rhinebeck is coming up. A little festivity will do you a world of good, I think.



I love what Margene and Stephanie said. Ditto.

See you soon, amazing lady.



Madame Purl

So sad... I'm going to have a good cry too. {{{{hugs}}}}


Yep, you got me teary too. The knitting left in mid-row is particularly distressing......


That's so sad, and I'm so sorry that your aunt and your family have to go through this...

Dorothy B

So sorry about your aunt. We are crying with you today.


Only through the power of knitting and kindred souls can words bring a complete stranger to tears as she reads your entry. Thinking of you and your auntie.


Laurie, I was deeply affected by your story - my father developed Alzheimers at 62 and I watched his decline over nine years, including becoming his conservator after my mother's death.. so painful to this day to think about the loss in quality for the person and for the rest of us. Your photo of the knitting says it all ... too tangled and confused to sort out. My heart is with you.




Your words and the pictures and emotions they evoke are truly touching. The picture you posted is truly a visual metaphor for life. I missed reading your blog.

lynne s of oz

My goodness - I would love to be knitting when I am in my 90s! Heck, I'd love to be alive and compos mentis et habitus then!
Such a sad disease, Alzheimer's....

Diane E.

Oh, if I had a neice that found my unfinished project, I would love it to be finished into a pillow, vest, lap blanket, anything by her. May we all be as able to to knit till our 90's. :)


What a beautiful and sad tribute to your Aunt. I have an older friend who is slipping into that same place of confusion.....so very hard to watch.

You should make up something with that blue yarn and frame it...perhaps a cabled block or something.

Bookish Wendy

What a beautiful post. I am constantly amazed at how much our craft binds us - through time and space.

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