the disappearing act

Destined to become a somewhat modified version of the 'rosebud cardigan' from simple knits for cherished babies, these knitted pieces were started when I first found out about littleone : when no other knitting and no other sewing could even be contemplated, nevermind started. Row by row, each piece was slowly completed, holding it's own memories, recording milestones reached, growing along with the life inside me. I finished the last piece just a couple of days ago and excitedly started to sew the shoulder seams, the hemming {one of the modifications}, and finally knit the edging of the collar. With disastrous results. The shoulder seams don't match up and have holes where there really should not be holes. The hems don't lie flat and have completely stretched out. The aymetrical front pieces look awful {the second modification}. The buttonhole placement is completely wrong. Don't even ask about the collar. The arm and side seams remain unsewn. I was distraught {read : hormonal} and I angrily put it somewhere, somewhere out of sight, so that I didn't have to look at it anymore. Today I decided to face up to it and consider my options :: to rip it out + start over OR to keep it unfinished, knowing that the significance of each of those stitches would satisfy my need for sentimentality.

Now if only I could FIND it.
It is nowhere to be seen.
Disappeared.
Gone.
Perhaps it will turn up in some obscure moving box.
That will be unpacked months after the cardigan was intened to fit littleone.
Or maybe it will be in one of those boxes that remain unpacked and hide out in the attic or under the stairs, only to be discovered years from now.

Comments

[michele]

yes moving is no fun! i've moved a lot so you have my sympathy.

things do turn up though eventually. and maybe you need a longer break from this one.

[Alison]

It will always have it's meaning for you, no matter when in time it turns up - sometimes projects have to be 'metaphoric' for us, a symbol of our journey rather than a record of an actuality.

There have been many knit pieces I have made for both children which fall into that category. I keep them in a little cotton embroidered bag. They're a memory, despite never having been worn, or only for fleeting moments.