Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the yarn seemed to blur before Eleanor's tear-filled eyes. She sat in front of her knitting basket, the needles still resting where she had left them. Her daughter, Lily, had initially loved to learn the craft. Now, Lily spent her days in the art studio, painting and sculpting.

Eleanor, a weaver, had envisioned a mother-daughter knitting club, exchanging patterns and creating heirloom pieces. She envisioned the warmth of the yarn, the click of the needles, the comfort. Instead, the yarn sat untouched, the needles feeling like weighted swords.