Mittens

I lost my father this summer: he died as he had lived, with courage and stoicism.  One of the many things we did to help mother was to begin the task of sorting his clothes and uniforms and taking them to charity.  Dad, as retired Navy and a retired practicing attorney, had many lovely suits, shirts and ties.

Summer had transitioned into fall, so we went through his coats, hats and gloves .  And I found the mittens.  In the teeth of a hurricane my mother and father had traveled to Virginia Beach to attend my sister in law's father's funeral.

Dad, who was frail, got out of the car in a downpour to ask directions.  He lost his balance on wet grass and rocks, landing on his hands.  The rocks were sharp and damaged his hands badly.  Surgery couldn't fully correct them, and he could not wear his gloves that year.

He complained that when he went outside he was always very cold; he had no way to and keep his hands warm.

So I went to Webs and bought some heathered navy worsted weight yarn.  I  Found a simple pattern and knit that yarn on needles meant for sock weight and presented him with gloves so thick they may as well have been felted. There they were, obviously well used, in his favorite coat's pockets.

I cleaned them up a little and sent them in with the coat.  I hope they get a chance to keep someone else's hands warm