2002-12-24 || 11:15 p.m.

|| christmas eve. grammy's wallet. the Box of Knitting. ||

contents of my grandmother's wallet as examined with the aid of beautiful beguiling evelyn mcanneyherbinsoncooksilbersdorf, age 85: a picture of me, age four, and kelly, age two. a photo of her best friend ruth that is over fifty years old, from back when gram and she worked at north american. photos of my dad at various ages, some of which are curiously cut out so that my dad's five-year old face appears to be floating above credit cards and coupons. a photo of my uncle jim at his most uncle jim-like: sea captain, captain redbeard, dark wool and cap. a photo of aunt colleen at age eight. photos of my cousins. business cards. credit cards. a membership card for "fontayne mannequin company- a modeling agency" signed with my grandmother's maiden name, dating the card back to 1935 (evelyn was a model. evelyn had a bit part in a movie starring betty grable, but is at this point foggy about the details; still finds herself shaking her head at the sad fate of her legs succumbing to gravity and vericose veins.)

* * * * * * * *

tonight i inherited my great aunt's Box of Knitting. they were glad to give it to somebody: bags and bags of yarn and the most impossible of tiny knitting needles, orphaned projects, armless sweaters and amorphous scarves. there is over forty years of my auntie in that box. countless hours of her frowning in lamplight, finding comfort in the personal acquiring of bifocals, pulling out lengths and lengths of stitching to start all over again with that angora sweater no closer to conquering. i haven't gone through it yet. i want to wait until i am alone in my room and can pull out each piece like an ancient artifact, can smell the age in them and hold the pieces the way she did and see if for a second she'll show up (in the way i hold my tongue to the side of my mouth. in the way my posture changes slightly and i am hunched, edie-like.). i promised grammy i would knit her something fabulous with edie's yarn, and i could tell she was thinking the same thing as me, if just for a second, when i said it: veins and arteries and branches of the family tree purl knit purl knit purl knit.

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