There’s nothing inherently super special about these socks, as they are just another pair of plain vanilla Fish Lips Kiss Heel socks. But the yarn was bought at Romni Wools in Toronto at Christmastime with my dear friend and spending the day with her, laughing and reminiscing about old times was priceless. Every single time I wear these socks, I will think of that day.
I hopped on a VIA train at 6am to make it into Toronto’s Union station for 9am. Croissants and coffee for breakfast. The best avocado scrambler I have ever had for lunch and a trip back at dusk on the same train. I got home (to my in-laws house) that night at 9:30pm. My mother-in-law had lent me her precious Mustang to take to the station, which meant the world to me, and I was spent: Tired, hungry and emotionally done.
It was the most magical day. And for that reason, these socks deserve a moment to shine.
Pattern :: Fish Lips Kiss Heel by Sox Therapist
Needles :: 2.25mm ChiaGoo Red Lace, magic loop
I find the memories of the past 4 years overwhelming when I think about our trips to Toronto. There has been so much joy and happiness when we travel to see friends and family, but there has also been much sadness and mourning for family and friends lost.
My day with my dear friend was closure we both needed and new beginnings. The last time we were together was at her husband’s funeral after his battle with leukemia. My husband and I were one of the close supports through that time – we would chat on the phone late into the night while I was working night shifts because during the middle of his treatment, he was hospitalised and awake most of the time.
He and I would talk about end-of-life, care and comfort, treatments, anger and acceptance, denial … We talked about these things because the four of us knew he wouldn’t survive. No one else would have those conversations with him so while I took a break from my work, as a bedside nurse to trauma patients (30% of whom lose their lives in our unit) and Master’s prepared in End-of-Life, he would talk. And I would cry inside for my dear friend who would be a widow one day at 29 years old.
And then we had this day in December. And we laughed. Cried. Reminicsed. And healed. Our friendship moved forward into present day – the life she is building. Our life with our children.We have so much to be thankful for and it feels wonderful to see my friend looking to the future, talking about life instead of cancer.
So these socks are pretty super stinking special.
Until next time,