I called my my mom to talk taxes this morning on my way to work and learned that Rumi, a dear family friend, has reached her last hours with cancer.
Rumi has crafted many things for me over the years. She knitted a crazy multi-colored striped blanket for me to take to college, created a swan sculpture out of little pieces of paper folded into tiny triangles, and made me little boxes out of floral paper.
I found out before Christmas that her doctors had given her only a few more months and so I knit her
a pair of handwarmers in the same style as the ones my mom had that Rumi so admired. To thank me for the gift, she made me a wonderful sculpture out of clay that she said reminded her of the work I do in theater.
So tonight I'm going to burn a lavender tea light for Rumi (because I think she would want more than some boring old unscented tea light) and cry and finally work on the
"Fuck Cancer" cross-stitch that Katherine gave me for my birthday last year.
I'm so very glad I got to knit her something. The words come out sounding so trite, but I mean it from the depth of my soul when I say that knitting means I love you.