This fall, my mother agreed to let me knit her a sweater, but she had one condition: I must not stress about it.
The previous year, I had decided on Halloween that I would knit DK weight socks for her, my brother and my father as Christmas gifts. I dreamt of flying through some chunky socks and giving the gift of warm toes, but the reality was significantly more stressful. After the socks were unwrapped and on the giftees’ feet, I shared with my mom how much pressure I had put on myself to finish them before my trip home for the holidays. I realized that none of them would have cared a whit if their socks were a bit late, but I still felt like I had to always have my 9 inch circular needles at hand to finish in time.
For the past 6 years, I’ve lived far away from my family. I’m fortunate to get to visit them a few times a year, but it never feels like enough. I make it home for a few gatherings and my aunts and uncles cajole me about when I’ll move back to be closer to them. I can shrug off this well meant teasing, but I still carry guilt and judgement about my ability to be a full member of the family.
This is probably why I feel the need to make grand, knitted gestures. It’s almost certainly overcompensation but its so hard to resist the desire to send a yarn hug to show that I’m thinking of them every time I pick up my needles.
The condition that my mom set was prescient. My stress and anxiety is not an expression of love but rather an expression of stress and anxiety. My family has never expected or wanted me to be unhappy, particularly on their behalf.
While working on this sweater project, I have already failed to meet her condition. That’s ok; it’s become more of a guiding principal than a rule. I’ve frogged the start of a cabled brioche yoke and then pivoted to a completely different pattern that brought me more joy to knit. I’ve hit a wall working on the body and I’m going to give myself the gift of a sleeve to get going again. When something isn’t working, I let it go instead of agonizing over it.
I want to knit something cozy for my mother because I’m proud of my knitting skills and I’m proud of my mom and it makes me happy to give her something beautiful and meaningful. All the rest is unnecessary.
It sounds like you and your family are both lucky to have each other! Beautiful work, from my inexpert point of view anyway; it all looks lovely!
This line is so good: “My stress and anxiety is not an expression of love but rather an expression of stress and anxiety.” Gift-giving can be so rife with masked agendas. So wise that you’re willing to investigate what it’s *actually* about for you.
Totally unrelated to knitting, your experiences living far from fam are so relatable. Why is it the good-natured teasing from my uncle of all people that always hits?! Gah.