Knitting Falls to the Grandmother

I don’t know about most families, but in mine the grandmother teaches the granddaughters how to knit. This is a hefty responsibility, because the women before me were, and are, amazing at this. My mom, and Aunt Betsy, do all sorts of complicated stitches, along with cables, popcorns, and “Skip the Loop”, whatever that is.

I confess that I am not of their caliber – not even close. I can knit. I can purl. That’s about it. Our daughter Mary is far more proficient than I. But still, because of my maiden name, it is handed to me to teach my granddaughters what I know.

When I was five, I wanted to learn how to knit. When I asked my mom to teach me, she said, “I don’t have time. Go ask Momo.” So I did. I have wonderful memories of sitting beside her on her sleeper sofa as she patiently held my small hands in her own soft ones, guiding my needles. To me, at the time, it seemed like an impossible thing to get right, and even today I can feel my total despair when she noticed a mistake in my square and showed me how to “rip it out.” So, I learned the basics, then went on to more fun ways to spend my time.

I picked the needles back up in junior high, because I wanted to make a vest. My grandmother told me she would buy the yarn – “Any kind you choose!”  - so I unwisely picked blue mohair. It covered everything, including my eyes and nose. I was determined to complete that vest, and I did, mostly because my sister said I never would.

Aunt Betsy, who taught our Mary how to knit, learned not from her grandmother, because she had none, nor from her own mother, Momo, because Momo was too busy. She learned at the bowling alley, right after The War, by watching a friend’s wife knit, and so she knits backwards. It’s beautiful, but you can spot her work across the room. Mary learned by watching her, so Mary’s knitting is correct.

A year ago Hannah, then seven, asked me to teach her to knit. “Sure!” I said. “But your mom’s aunt is far better than I am.” “No, Grammy, I want you to teach me just like your grandmother taught you.” So, we knitted a diminutive scarf for the girls’ collection of American Girl dolls. Knit and purl, of course.

Last month Katie announced she was ready for lessons. She’s coming close to seven, and I suppose in their minds that’s now the designated age to begin knitting classes. “Sure!” I said. Last week she called to remind me.

I have at least five more granddaughters to go. If they want to learn more than knit and purl, they can ask Aunt Mary.