Being grateful isn't just for Thanksgiving

Oh gratitude, that most elusive of human emotions: this one is for you.

My kids will tell you that I can out grinch the Grinch himself. And I can. But I've hit the time of year when I can no longer fail to appreciate the Grinch's miserly heart growing three sizes.

Among many things for which I am grateful, I am immensely grateful that I can hand knit at all. Those of you who are non-knitters and non-yarnies may fail to appreciate the why of it.  Why I at times forget to appreciate it at all, is an absolute mystery to me.

Almost 13 years ago, on 21 December 1998, I had a stroke that rendered me virtually senseless for a very long time, and among many other things, I lost all use of my right hand for 6 months, and have not regained fine motor control of my right hand to this day. Honestly it's unlikely that I ever will. My adaptation was to accept that my right hand was virtually useless.

 I haven't buttoned my blouse with both hands for 13 years.  I haven't typed with two hands in 13 years. There are many, many things I haven't done with two hands in 13 years.

Back in 1998 I was an insane crocheter, a craft requiring the use of fine motor control of both hands. Then BLAM!, that was gone in an instant.  No more crocheted baby clothes, baby blankets. No more crocheted toys or doilies. I missed playing with yarn and thread more than mere words can express. And this loss of a much beloved hobby stayed with me, when I've gotten used to the other losses from the stroke.

Then I discovered machine knitting in 2008, which I could do with my left hand and at most one thumb  from my right hand. Yes, that bad boy works a wee bit now. And I could play with yarn again, which felt like a miracle.

Then in February 2011 over a weekend, I learned I could knit by hand in the English method in a very non-standard way. There are no words to express the ecstasy that came with that discovery. I could finally work with yarn using both hands!

Though I can only physically feel it in my left hand, knitting was and continues to be an incredible emotional experience. I can now reason (reasoning took me a long time to recover) my way through how to accommodate most knitting stitches. And if you watch any knitting videos on YouTube, you'll see what an accomplishment that really is for me without the use of the fingers on my right hand.

There are some things knitted that are impractical for me to do without having the use of the fingers of my right hand. I'm hesitant to say impossible because I'm still learning and figuring things out, though I'm sure there are things I physically can't do. I am a much slower knitter than most, and impossibly slow compared to expert knitters. But I knit all the same, and the quality of my work is impressive. Adapt, improvise, overcome.

Rehab after my stroke taught me the usefulness of the military motto "adapt, improvise, overcome." Relearning how to do the things most take for granted, walking, talking, thinking, reading, dressing all in a new way teaches you that there's not much you can't do with a workaround. You just have to look. However, some things just don't seem to have a workaround. In part, adapting means accepting your limitations.

Accepting limitations is highly useful, but there's a large but. Sometimes that acceptance blinds you to what really can happen through improvisation, and it kills the gratitude. Until February 2011 I'd not realized just how far this motto could take me. By improvising past my adaptation, I learned to overcome.

And I am grateful. So if you hear me relate things to knitting, now you know why. It's gotten so much better since 1998 and 2008. Never, ever let go of the gratitude. It is what keeps you adapting, improvising, and overcoming. Hold on to that.