Two vs. One

It would seem that in any kind of race where the teams are two vs. one, the team of two would always win. The past few days, though, my grandma has proven that to be quite wrong. I am speaking here of knitting vs. crocheting. I prefer knitting, but she very much enjoys to crochet. As we sit on opposite ends of the couch and begin our projects, I envy her so much. She is making an entire baby blanket, yet I still struggle with a simple, one-colored scarf. To add another color would completely push me over the edge, but I watch her switch from color to color with no trouble at all. She has three rows finished, and I am still on the first one.

Of course, the point of this is not to say how jealous I am of my grandmother's crocheting skills, but to prove how patience comes with age. In her 80s, she has developed the patience that it requires to take on something huge, and I see that I have a very long way to go. I respect her very much for the fact that she can change colors with ease and crochet faster than anyone I know, not only because it is pure talent, but also because it causes me to have something to aspire to become.

To her, hitting 80 was hardly a landmark because she still acts like she's 40. I hope that I'm like that when I'm 80: an unstoppable woman who refuses to let a silly number like 80 slow her down. That is what the blanket she makes represents: her willingness to go on. Can you guess what that makes my scarf represent? My want to give up right then, but go on because I've already gotten so far.

I hate looking at life through such an analytical way, but once in a while I do. This time in the case of two needles vs. one needle and all that it can mean. So now everytime I pick up my two knitting needles, I think of Grandma and all that she is able to do with only one crochet hook, and I go on to the next color.