I don’t always finish things that I start.

Well…that’s one of my problems.

This time though, I’m going to. I have confidence in myself.

It’ll be two weeks Tuesday since my mom taught my how to crochet. You ask why in the world a woman in her early 20’s would want to learn the art of making an item out of yarn by using a hook. I say why not?

Next thing you know I’ll be sitting home on a Monday night crocheting an watching Antique’s Roadshow on PBS. Oh wait, I did that this week. One thing I won’t do though, is eat peanut brittle or give out pennies at Halloween.

I asked my mom to teach me how to crochet to simply make myself a scarf, I told her that was the reason at least. In actuality, I wanted my mom to teach me how to crochet because it was a good reason to spend some quality mother-daughter bonding time, something we have been lacking for a few months due to life catching up with us.

While she was teaching me, she told me a story. My mom’s grandmother taught her how to crochet at a young age. My great-grandmother use to sell her wares at craft shows. At the age of 9 my mom sold her first crocheted blanket. I had never heard the story and was astonished. I wasn’t bewildered by the fact that my mom had made something so spectacular that someone would buy it, I was amazed that she was 9 years old when she sold her first piece and had entered a craft show.

I was proud of her, even though it happened so long ago. I was glad that my mom had taken the time to share this information about her life before me. My mom had told me several stories about her childhood, but this was a new one, a new moment added to the other collection of anecdotes in the filing cabinet of my brain labeled “Mom.”

Crocheting teaches you patience. I’d like to think that in these almost two weeks of my crocheting career that I have grown a tad more patient. Patience is a virtue.

Crocheting helped my mom and I share something again. Sure we share many things, but I wanted to learn something new from my hero.

Currently, I am a quarter of the way through with my scarf. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll finish it by the end of winter, just before spring hits, so I’ll be able to show off my craftsmanship. And maybe I’ll be able to finally say that I finished something I started. Even if I don’t finish it though, at least I learned a little more about my mom, of who she was and how she transformed into the person that I know today.