Margaret was my "friend". We met several years ago, brought together by knitting and a desire to knit among other knitters. We both somehow ended up at the same coffee house knitting group--friends who would perhaps have never otherwise even met.
When we first met, Margaret had just retired. We worked in the same "industry", but our paths had never crossed. Our relationship was one of convenience and shared interest, limited to the Wednesday nights our paths crossed, but that does not diminish it's value.
Margaret was a person with convictions and opinions, who was not afraid to let you know what she thought. We debated current events, world problems, the news, politics, religion, and the virtues of different yarns. Margaret was enthusiastic--and not afraid to try new things. If it did not work out, or did not continue to interest her, she found a new home for it and moved on--unburdened, but richer for having tried. We shared a love of rings, antiques, and family. Margaret was funny and fun, and I will miss her.
She was a charitable person, quietly making sure that others had what they needed. She knew what she wanted--and once went to the mat over a bizarre pink pig in a tutu at a Christmas party--determined it would be hers at all costs during the white elephant exchange! She enthusiastically embraced knitting games at Knit Michigan, not to win, but to have fun along the way. That was the way Margaret lived her life.
Margaret had developed some health problems, and was frustrated that despite all she tried, things did not get better. She give the honest try, but when things did not work out, moved on--living her life, loving her grandchildren, and taking a class to improve her knitting. We all knew that she was not feeling well. That the Dr's. could not seem to find a cure that worked for what ailed her, or even really identify what was causing her symptoms. That slowed her down a little, but did not stop her.
The last time I saw Margaret, she came to knitting, despite being in pain. She was very uncomfortable, and frustrated that the medical community could not find out what was wrong, nor could they provide relief. They thought she had dislocated her ribs. In just a few weeks, she was dead. The victim of pancreatic cancer, diagnosed shortly before her death. Would it have mattered if she had known this diagnosis sooner? Probably not. She was uncomfortable, but spared the false hope and rigors of cancer treatments, to arrive at the same end.
Margaret will be missed. She was boisterous, sometimes bawdy, opinionated, and had a heart of gold. She enhanced us all for having known her unselfish spirit and giving nature. Margaret was one of my knitting friends and I am fortunate to have known her.
Random musings of a middle aged knitter.
