Warm hands

I've been spending the last few days up here in lovely NorCal with my mom mostly. She took a bad fall last week and broke her wrist. I don't know if they really do the classic casts anymore, but she has an external fixator. That's a fancy term for the nails and needles they have poked through her skin into her bones to hold them in place while they heal nicely. She'll be in one arm mode for about 6 more long weeks.

I knew I would be tending to her while I was up here, yet I wasn't really expected for the slight twinge of depression that comes with taking care of the woman who took care of me all my life. So helping her dress, cook, take something out of her wallet, button her cardigan, blow dry her hair - the list goes on - it puts a new twist on her sense of independence I'm sure. We've had to bear with each other - and its a good thing. She gets tired easily, and her nerves don't let her rest. The pain is still quite sharp and unbearable to some point.

During the hours that I've spent with her watching movies, Chinese episodics, and chatting, I knitted up "Fetching" from Knitty.com.



My mother hates it when her hands are cold. And while these are not for her, the gift of warmth is something she has given to me in her own way. And now as we children get older, we must return it to our parents in our own way too.