My Father's Sweater

My mom was prone to starting projects she never finished.

Especially sweaters.

She would get halfway through or nearly done and lose a knitting needle or run out of wool or misplace the pattern or start something else or just stop.  When we moved them out of their house I found bags of unfinished sweaters.  I took them all home, thinking one day I would pick up where she left off.  I never did.

But there was one sweater she finished for my dad that he wore everywhere. Made up of brightly coloured squares on a grey background. When he died I did not have the heart to throw it away. 

For 6 years it has sat in the back of my closet.  I thought to myself, "If I ever have a really bad day, I will wear Dad's sweater."   When I needed my dad's wisdom and kindness and faith and passion for justice, the sweater would wrap me in warmth, reminding me of who I was and where I came from and what I believe in.

I am wearing it today.