I’ve never seen Phillip this dedicated.
Many have asked why I haven’t been putting up more of my teddy bears in the shop, why we focus so much on Phillip’s Strange Friends.
In practical terms, my hands are working up older orders, and I’m just not able to move them as fast as I used to. So, where once I was able to do 3 bears a day, I’m only able to complete one. My hands feel like lead. They feel heavy, almost as if they are swollen from within, as if the bones in my hands are inflamed. We’ve been dealing with these issues for an awfully long time. We think we keep it managed, but at some point you realize that it’s not getting better untreated. So, we’re going to try some acupuncture to see if that works. But, in the meantime, Phillip does take special notice of my behavior. He mentions that I shouldn’t over do it, that I shouldn’t hold things a certain way. He notices my pick up the coffee cup and y hands shake badly. But, what is worse is when I catch him watching me while knitting and he says, “Your hands aren’t working are they?” It doesn’t feel like carpel tunnel, it feels more arthritic.
But, I have to confess that his dedication has become wonderful. He doesn’t stop for a moment. He takes no time off for himself, no moment away from his crochet hook. And while I painfully attempt to purl, he’s busy whipping up his Strange Friends faster than I have ever seen anyone do amigurami.
I do get a little emotional about it. I watch my husband busting his butt to save the day. And where once I was the one who was ambitiously out of control, I’m at the mercy of irony: that the one talent I had that brought me out of homelessness is failing me. A bit like the singer who notices they can no longer approach certain notes. Or the athlete who realizes he can’t run as far as he used to. We all come to the realization that we get older, and our bodies don’t cooperate with our determination like they used to. You get to that point where you begin to think in modes that reflect an obvious panic, you begin to dream of yesterday, rather than the future. And you begin to question what you’re going to do next. It’s even hard to type, to write, to keep the pen in my hand, as I think of my other talent. And you realize…..
You’re not the machine you once were.
So, we rely on Phillip for now, while we consider what to do next. But, this life of mine as a knitter is now hindered. This life of mine as a writer is now hindered. We rest on his Strange Friends.
To be truthful, I’m worried about our future because I always thought I could rely on these hands. We started doing this show because I felt it coming, I knew I needed to start moving down a new avenue, because my hands were beginning to fail. I’m generally an intensely optimistic person. But, I can’t help but admit that it does way heavy on me, and some depression sets in.
I dunno. Sometimes I come here to my blog to just….think. To get things off my chest. So, you’ll forgive me if I just “talk” sometimes and work things out. I’ve been staring out of this window before me quite a lot lately. And I keep thinking, out there, out this window, is not where the answer is, but here (tapping at the heart), is where I need to disappear for a minute and think. I do stare out that window and I have a tendency to get teary eyed. Then I hear Phillip approaching and I pull myself together and brush it all off. Because I’m worried. I truly am worried……
Thanks for listening.
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