I make afghans. The afghan making began on January 1, 1995. My daughter was a senior in high school and I began that night to make them for her closest friends as good luck gifts as they started college. By the end of August, I had all thirteen ready to go.
I didn’t allow each of the friends to choose the colors they wanted. There were limits to how many afghans in red and black or blue and white I could tolerate. I chose colors and patterns that I thought the recipient would like. It didn’t seem that anyone was disappointed. I did, however, make each to suit the height of the recipient. My children have an inordinate number of friends who are over six feet tall so some of those afghans got quite large.
The afghans are treasured. Sixteen years later, some of those in the first batch are being used for the children of that high school class of 1995. I am self-taught so my crocheting technique is sub-par but none of my work has fallen apart yet. Their value is in the fulfillment of the promise they represented when they were first given. Going off to college is an exciting and frightening prospect. My oldest daughter and her friends had become a tight unit when they met in middle school. The afghans were a symbol that, although they were not going to be seeing each other everyday, they were still tied to each other through shared memories and experiences. They, and their parents, have still not recovered from the “Svenson” report, the geography assignment they had in the eighth grade. More than a few of us remember hearing from the teacher who taught advanced chemistry that our children did not have the ability to form a thought process. (Not news to us). The afghans are tangible mementos of the times they enjoyed or, at least, can laugh about now.
Afghans are nothing more than yarn tied in knots. But, as one of the friends once remarked, “how is it that something full of holes can be so warm?” That’s a pretty good description of friendship, too.
Since then, high school and college friends have received new afghans as bridal shower gifts and for new babies. Now, I am trying to finish one for the man in my middle child’s life; apparently, she has decided he has the staying power to merit one.
I am about one-third of the way finished. Since he is 6′ 3″, I have a lot of work left so I will not be reading or typing for a few days. I hope that those of you who are finished with Christmas preparations will spare a thought for the rest of us. I hope that those of you who are in the same boat as I will find that every hour is now made up of eighty minutes.
DISCLAIMER: None of my afghans come close to looking like those pictured.