It’s just a dropped stitch   Leave a comment

The heel is turned on sock #1. I finished that last night. This morning, on the train, I started knitting away. About 6 rounds in, I noticed my stitch count was off on needle 1. I stopped knitting and looked at the sock. About 6 rows back or so, I dropped a stitch. I truly wanted to scream as it wasn’t just any stitch. It was one of the stitches that made up the edging of the pattern. I can sort of understand how it happened as that particular place called for K3TBL and that, well, is just a pain in the tush. So, on the way home, I carefully started tinking back to that point. In fact, I still have about 3 more rounds to go. For me, this is just the best way to do this.

That should be the worst that happened today, right?

About 5:15, I got a phone call from my friend Mark. How he called me, I don’t know. He says to me, “I’m in the hospital. They believe that I had a stroke” At which point, I’m fighting back tears. You see, I’ve known Mark since I was 16 years old and he truly is my best friend. We’ve always been there for each other and this was no different. I asked him if he wanted me to come there. He said no. Not yet. I told him I loved him and to do what the doctors told him. I could hear the slur in his speech. My heart is breaking.

After we hung up, I called my Mom and Dad and asked the favor: please go to the hospital and make sure he is OK. They went after dinner and I’m glad that they did. Thankfully there was no memory loss. (well, he did call me, so I guess that was a good sign). He was waiting for the neurologist to come see him. He was exhausted. My parents let him sleep and they said they would go back tomorrow afternoon and check in with him and then call me. I pray he’ll be all right.

When I got home, I called my Grandmother. She is my other best friend. We talk two to three times a day. I wake her in the morning and I talk to her before bed time. She loves to talk about our beloved Red Sox and my knitting.

I didn’t want to upset her, so I didn’t tell her about Mark. Instead, she upset me as she started to cry. Again, my heart was breaking. Her friend died today. Margaret was her first friend at the place she is living now and they fast became good friends. I had even knit her a pair of socks when I first learned how to knit. She was a very nice woman and I know that my Grandmother will miss her a lot. May she rest in peace.

I’ve never wanted to be back home so much to be there for my two best friends. I am going home 2 weeks from today and I will make sure I see them both and give them both big hugs. I love them both, more than they will ever know.

A dropped stitch doesn’t seem so bad now as that’s all it is, a dropped stitch.


Posted May 31, 2008 by theknittingpatch in Uncategorized

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