Unfinished

My Dad knits a baby blanket for each of his grandbabies.  

He had already started on the blanket he was making for Titus.

The day I called to say that Titus had died in the womb, my Dad stopped knitting on the blanket.  He wanted to wait and see what I wanted to do with the blanket.  He thought I might want it right where it was at the time of the baby's death.

My Mom thought he was crazy.  She said of course I would want the blanket, for my memory box.  She thought the blanket should be finished.  

Without telling me their thoughts, my parents waited to see what I wanted.  

My Mom gently approached the subject and told me about the blanket.  As she started to ask what I wanted, I suggested I would like to have the blanket, and I thought Dad should just cast it off his needles at whatever size it was currently.

My Mom's jaw literally dropped open.  She could not contain her surprise at my answer.

She said that was EXACTLY what my Dad thought I would want to do with the blanket.  She said that clearly we think alike.  She does not understand our thinking.

I enjoyed a good laugh at surprising my Mom with my similarity of thought to my Dad.  I've got great parents.

My Dad cast the blanket off his needles and gave it to me.  The blanket is so soft and precious.

It seemed fitting to me to have the unfinished blanket that was meant for the baby who did not get the opportunity to finish growing.