Monday, December 5, 2011

Memories collected in stitches: A Christmas stocking tale


And one stocking knit by mama makes four.  A {10+ hour} labor of love, of following patterns and making up my own. Every year I’ll notice the imperfections and remember the hours I spent counting stitches and how I learned to turn a heel {sounds like a dance move} and decrease for a toe.  We’ll remember my adoration of all things mustard yellow and grey, of bows and buttons.  Maybe, she’ll share those too or maybe not.


It’s unlike anything else, just like her and adds a crazy splash of bright, glowing spunk to our family lineup, just as she does.  I studied it late last night as I knit the last stitch, and it puzzles me and it delights me.  I’ve come to learn those are the best kind of creations, but something I could never explain. Maybe you understand.

To knit a stocking is something I’ve always wanted to do and I love that the first one is for her, my girl, on her first Christmas.

I see them all together, the ones we bought our first year as husband and wife (I didn’t know how to knit back them), the one I sewed for our boy from an old sweater and scraps, on our first Christmas as parents, and now…

our first as four.

Is that the reason for the timeless activity, do we knit to create a place for our memories to live?

Four stockings.

Do you have a story about your own Christmas stockings? Please tell me.


  1. Liv I MISS YOU, I just had to say that! Christmas stocking was embroidered by my aunt -- it is a treasure! When my brother came along four years later she completed a complimentary one for him as well. Such great memories & keepsakes!

  2. it's fabulous, just like her. (and her mama)


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