My husband, David, died of colon cancer when he was 53. Way too young. During his illness I sat with him in the house. Out of habit, to keep myself occupied, I picked up my knitting needles. The babies need another hat, I thought. In every room, it seemed, were dozens of baby hats I’d made for preemies in the obstetrics unit of our local hospital. I knitted a few stitches, then paused. I hope the babies’ moms will appreciate this, I thought.
To tell the truth, I’m not very skilled at knitting. It started out as a way to pass the time when David was in the hospital. Then a friend suggested that I knit baby caps for preemies. Though the pattern was simple, it took all my concentration. I sometimes sat for hours during David’s chemo treatments, keeping him silent company. As I tried to perfect my skills, David encouraged me.
“Show me each one when you finish,” he said. I figured he wanted to be a part of it. That was David—he was always my support, as I supported him.
There were times when major decisions about his treatment were in the balance, and I was too nervous to remove my knitting needles from my bag. “I’d feel better if you were knitting,” David said. I knew what he was thinking. What you’re doing is important. Don’t worry about me.
Now here I was, awash in grief, surrounded by a sea of tiny, knitted hats. I finished one more and put the needles down. Time to take these to the hospital, I thought. I started counting them up. The baby blue hat, the first one I’d knitted, while in his oncologist’s waiting room. The pink-and-white striped one I finished the day he ended his first round of chemo. The green one I completed the day before he died.
I counted up the last of them. 53. One for each year of David’s life.
I hadn’t planned it that way. But it felt like someone had. To send a message I heard loud and clear. David was gone, but his generous and loving spirit would live on in each one of those preemies who wear my – and David’s – hats.
I picked up my needles again and started knitting. I know that’s what David would want.