Ever After, Not the End

I’ve finished my Sea Glass Tee by Wool & Pine Designs!

This was my impromptu summer memory project; I love it even more than I expected I would. There was more than one “I’m not sure why I thought this was a good idea” moment throughout the process (because neon pink…) but the final result more than makes up for it.

There are four different brands of yarn in this tee, approximately 6 different yarn lines, and you don’t want to know how many colors. Most of them are standard merino/nylon blend sock yarns, but there is one with silk content and one with sparkles. Before blocking, the fabric was squishy and bouncy but a little stiff; now, after a soak in warm water, it’s soft and supple and drapes beautifully. All the different yarns create quite a nice cloth—cohesive but textural in a subtle kind of way. The fit is perfect; I like my pullovers with positive ease in the body but a little snug in the arms. I modified the neckline to make it wider than the pattern states, and I’m glad I did.

The knotting technique suggested in the pattern worked a treat for me; there’s some jogging in the back where I joined new colors, but what’s that between friends? This is why I wear my hair long.

We had a big, sudden rain dump yesterday afternoon and then golden hour struck. The glorious photo lighting was a last perfect gift to cap off this project.

Like I’ve said, this was my memory project. Some of my oldest yarns are in it, as well as some of my newest. There are leftovers from baby shower gifts for children who are now riding bikes and doing math and going fishing and who I sometimes worry about, shawls and even socks for people I assumed would always be a part of my life (only under that condition will I make socks for anyone…), and other sweaters I’ve knit and worn for occasions I didn’t know were turning points until I looked back and gasped. And then there are scraps from my designs, including the Quiet Bay MKAL that’s underway now, possibly the biggest milestone of my design journey so far. There’s a lot of trial and triumph and things I’m not sure are which all knitted up in this project—probably too much emotional weight for one little summer sweater to carry.

Am I going to be conscious of all this every time I wear the sweater? Maybe; I don’t know. All this is an exercise, admittedly a low-risk one, in neither brooding or forgetting. The act of reconciling the way things were, the way they are now, and the way we wish they were is a continuous one. The need for that process isn’t going to go away because I made something and called it finished. Nor are the consequences going to go away because I keep my chin up.

Throughout this project, these words have been on my mind—From now on let no one trouble me, for I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus Christ—in which St. Paul’s tragedies became his credentials, so to speak, to address a broken world. The worst things that ever happened to him carried him forward into whatever new adventure was next for him; not that any of those were easy, either. But the physical, visceral memory of his own hurts were his response to those who demanded “So, what’s your superpower?”

This is something most of us, if not all of us, have to learn how to do in our own way and our own time. Call it assimilation. I’m not writing this because I know how to do it. Maybe one of these days I’ll figure out more of it than I have figured out now (namely nothing) and I’ll have more to say than I’m doing this because I have to. In the meantime, I plan to wear my sweater.