New socks, new hat, no hair

So, yesterday, my mother and I went over to my Aunt Diane's house. I had finished her Spey Valley socks (no picture, because Mom's camera batteries were dead, and I'd forgotten to bring mine). This was especially fun because the day after we'd last visited, Aunt Diane called my mom and admired the handknit socks I'd been wearing again, and asked my mother if she thought I'd make my aunt a pair of socks, if my aunt bought the yarn.

Of course I'd already bought my Lorna's Laces in Desert Flower (the only time Aunt Diane ever got to travel was to Arizona, and she loved the colors of everything she'd never seen before) and cast on for socks. So bringing them over yesterday was a special treat.

What was hard was that when we called ahead and asked if she'd be home, she asked my mom to bring her clippers and shave her head. The chemo is making her hair fall out all in patches, and she thought it would have to be better if her scalp were just bare.

It was hard. It was hard seeing her with her hair all patchy, and it was hard seeing her afterwards, looking like an extra in a Holocaust film, with her sunken eyes and her tired hands, and her bare scalp. But Mom had made her a pretty hat to wear, and she loved that, and she loved the socks. She had been cold all week, put on her socks, and smiled. "They're so soft," she said, "And so warm."

As a knitter and a niece, that was one of the finer moments I've had lately. So I wanted to share, even if I didn't have any pictures.