The more Phillip works up his Strange Friends, the more he shows how creative he wants to be. (He’s taking a bath now, and may not read this for a while 🙂 ). I do enjoy how madly happy he gets when he works them up. He pushes himself to finish one as fast as he can, only to work through one so he can begin another. I love my husband for that. As if he’s been tasked with building a bridge, goes through it, completes it and says, “Thank you, sir, I’d like to build another.”
He sways when he crochets, he whispers to himself. He shouts back at whatever he’s watching. He shows an exact attempt at not being distracted, locked in his head, hands clutching the crochet hook. He’ll rest for only a moment to make sure I’m ok, popping his head into the bedroom to ask if there is anything I need. He knows that right now his Strange Friends are what we have to offer. They’re whom we rely on. This band of mad looking lovelies that spill from the yarn, through his fingers, and into your lives. They’re beautiful and helpful, brought forth from his desire to make life better for us while I recover and recoup.
It really is the sort of thing that makes you cry as a spouse, because there was a time where he felt he had no interest in yarn, no care for it. And what’s even worse is that he said he lacked the confidence to even learn. Then one simple, strange thing happened. He realized he had to find some way to keep this family together, fed, and alive while he hunted for work. And as the notion goes, if no one would hire him, he would hire himself. And one simple, strange thing happened when he realized he COULD learn to crochet and make things, and even sell them to keep the lights on: he found that he was a rescuer. A hero.
And one simple, strange thing happened when he realized that he was solidly supporting us: he stood taller than his usual 6’4. His chest was broader than before, his eyes were keener. He became PROUD of himself in a way that he had never experienced before. No one had ever asked him to do it. He took it upon himself. He endeared himself to the craft as a means to make sure we could survive. And I LOVE him for that.
I love you, sweetheart. Thank you for all that you’re doing for us.
To adopt one of his Strange Friends, click here.