I’m sitting here on a Monday morning with the teens still asleep. In the silence, I can actually hear the thoughts in my head. Over the last two weeks, cluttered with parties and jubilations over the high school graduations of not one but two seniors, I have scarcely had time to reflect. It seems fitting for a knitting blog to consider the role of knitting in my children’s lives. Knitters know that most of the time it costs more to knit an item rather than buy one. We generally don’t knit for practicality these days. We knit to show someone how much they mean to us. We slave over yarn selection and patterns and try to design something totally personal. We spend countless hours knitting each stitch with love. Stitches that are cursed at are ripped out. Carefully, precisely we knit cloaks of love. From the coming home outfits I designed while dreaming of the baby that would one day wear them to the now juice stain toddler sweaters covered with colorful animals to the lace dresses and the cabled pullovers of teens, each is a perfect representation of who they were at the time and the love I tried to shield them with. As they go off to college, of course I’ll be knitting new cloaks of love. Though I can’t shield them from everything or really much of anything, I know that my love for them will be as close to them as that sweater they might actually wear.