My mom liked to crochet. I never really knew if she actually enjoyed it or if she simply did it because she was trying to continue a family tradition; her mother, my grandmother, Nana Anna, used to crochet all the time. Mom was working on a blanket for my son shortly before the events of Thanksgiving 2011, which led to her institutionalization and eventual death. I wonder what happened to that. I wonder how much progress she made on it, whether she ever finished, and where it is.
She used to make me slippers in University of Florida orange & blue. One time she shipped them to my office instead of to my house, and some of the guys at work — UCLA fans — jokingly asked for their own pairs. Or maybe my mom simply made a pair for my good friend for Christmas or something and then my other friend at work got jealous of those. I can’t remember exactly. I sent my mom this email in late May of 2009:
[name redacted] — the President of [my company] — is asking where his UCLA booties are. You said you would send him some because he got jealous of [name redacted].
I love you,
She replied at 6:13 PM — which would have been 9:13 PM for her — with:
I think I can handle booties. Same size as yours?
And at 8:58 PM I responded:
No! I keep telling you that you always make mine too big!
Just a little bit smaller …
I love you.
She always made mine exactly the same size as my shoe size, which was great, except every time you wash a pair of crocheted slippers the yarn stretches. So after just one or two washes they would be like gigantic clown slippers. I kept asking her to make them a few sizes too small, but she never remembered to do that.