When I was a child, my mother attempted to teach me to knit. I was terrible at it; my projects turned out more like stiff boards than supple scarves. So the idea of learning to crochet seemed like insanity to me. However, I was determined to prove to myself that my brain could still learn things. Plus,  my therapists had discussed me doing some type of needlepoint or knitting to help me with my eye tracking and visual focus and I thought it might be time to start.

I watched a few youtube videos on how to crochet and after a while, what initially seemed like magic became a possibility. I scrounged around for some yarn and began a scarf. I didn’t have nearly enough yarn but I was happy with the start. Then I became more ambitious, I wanted to make a blanket. I searched around youtube again and found someone who went through how to make granny squares as slowly as possible step by step.

My first attempt ended up like a deformed circle. I had somehow ended up with about 15 corners on my square. I tried to fix it but the corners were not equally spaced – it became a cat toy.

The next time I got it right. I discovered my error and this time managed to keep four corners throughout. I also decided to make one gigantic square blanket throw. My youngest daughter was so excited that she just kept asking me to add new colors and begged for this first blanket to be hers. When I finished it, I was exceptionally proud with the end result despite having tied off each color where it stopped as opposed to starting a new row or set of rows for each new color. Nevertheless, I was quite pleased with my newfound cornering ability. 

My older daughter was thrilled but chose to challenge me by asking for only four colors and for it to be made up of proper granny squares instead of one large one. I have been making squares since and even calculated each of the 24 variations that could be created using the four colors. The result will hopefully be finished in time to package as a Christmas present. Each square is a labor of love. The planning itself was difficult, but my son helped me. 

Perhaps Crocheting for Concussions isn’t yet a thing, but when I am overwhelmed or frustrated at my inability to do the things I used to do, the crocheting helps me to relax while also making me feel still useful. 

This labor of love isn’t just about making blankets for my kids, it’s about struggling to get better so that I can be there for them in the future in a meaningful way and I am thankful to God for enabling me to do so. 

“The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.” – Confucious