A Knitting Heritage

Part of dealing with a family death is making decisions about possessions - what to keep, what to sell, what to discard.    Depending upon your attitude towards possessions and your sentimentality, the decisions can be very difficult.

After visiting our parents' graves this Christmas, my brother and I made a quick stop at our family home.  There is much to go through, much to sort, much to decide.  I realized one very easy decision would be about my mom's knitting needles.  I have very little sentimentality about them, although I did learn to knit on them.  Knitting needles are tools; I knit, so taking her supply seemed logical.



I was actually looking for Mom's knitting needle roll, but I didn't find it this trip.  To simplify matters, I stuffed all the odds and ends into a shopping bag and brought them back home with me.  I frequently see old knitting needles in thrift store, having been bundled off along with the rest of the unwanted items.  No judgment is meant in that statement: to those who don't knit, the tools are useless clutter.  As a knitter, I always look at the needles, often bringing home things that will fit into my equipment.

Back home, I emptied the bag onto the floor and started sorting into pairs and types.  I knew that the vast majority would be Susan Bates aluminums - these are the needles I always remember seeing in my Mom's hands, and are one of my least favorite types.  Knitting needles are a very personal choice for each knitter, and I dislike the cold feel of aluminum needles.  Since my mother had problems with arthritis,I never understood her preference for aluminum. Mixed in with these were some bamboo (my gifts to her) and German needles (my sister's influence). I hear the needles click in my memory, and see my Mom rocking in her rocking chair, knitting.  Evenings are indelibly associated with Mom knitting or ironing, mainly knitting.

Some of the needles were older, vintage plasics, either celluoid or bakelike, still flexible, but warm to the touch.  Older metal needles went into this grouping  Many of these needles showed shaping to the knitter's hand, a common occurance with thinner needles.

I recognized a selection of small steel crochet hooks as belonging to my grandmother, the most proficient crocheter of the family. These hooks were distinctive from the aluminum ones my Mom used.   My grandmother was a proficient maker of fine doilies and of pillow case lace.  During her last days, she made afghans for all of my family, crocheting stitches on wool squares to make bed-sized blankets for each of us.

The smallest number were the oldest - steel knitting pins, bone and dark wood needles.  These I believe were either my grandmother's or her mother's

None of these needles are valuable in and of themselves - but they represent a tradition of handiwork - of women's domestic arts used to beautify a home or to make clothing.  I could see changes in technology and fashion in the materials used.  Holdng the tools used by women in my family, I felt a sense of a hertitage passed from one to another, an appreciation of a way to busy idle hands with beauty.