There is so much loss around me right now. I know that’s true for you too. I am not talking about Gaza (I am talking about Gaza). I am not even talking about the kids all striking out on their own (sob) but about this age that we are. That I am. People’s parents are dying. And the people whose parents are dying now are the lucky ones, of course. Other people’s parents are already long dead. Or they sucked and then died. Or they suck and are alive still. OH MY GOD WHY CATHERINE PLEASE STOP. Anyways, you know what I’m saying even though yes, what is wrong with me today? (A lot.)
I like to send condolence cards because there is something very tender about being reminded, even when grief is as heavy on and around you as a boiled-wool cloak, that you are beloved. That people care about you and will stay beside you even if, heavily cloaked as you are, you are not the most buoyant company. A card in the mail is so deeply comforting. (And by the way, no, you don’t need to write people back if they send you a condolence card. The card senders can simply know that they cracked a little light into your dark place, and that will be thanks enough. I was an actual etiquette columnist for ten years, so you can trust me on this.)
Obviously, the string-art heart card would be perfectly consoling.
But another card I love to make—and honestly, making it will be the best part of your day unless you have an actual life, and then, well, all bets are off and just go ahead and get on with it—is this simple woven one, shown above.
You’ll start by marking off a 1-inch square (or a different-sized square) on a piece of paper. Then, mark a dot on each side every 1/8th inch. Then tape this little template to your card.
Now put the card on something firm but yielding (I use a flat piece of foam packaging) and use a pushpin to poke a hole everywhere you’ve made a dot. Peel the little template off of the card.
Thread your needle with some yarn or embroidery thread. I like to use the variegated kind that changes color (my polar-plunge friend Angela dyed this yarn and it’s so pretty), and then you can use the same yarn both directions. But you can also pick two different colors, one for the warp and one for the weft. The warp is the threads that go up and down, and the weft is the threads that go right to left. WEFT LEFT. Got it? What you see above is the warp threads. It looks like this on the back:
Then you’ll do the weft, pushing your needle up through each side hole, and then weaving over and under as per all weaving instructions everywhere, and then pushing back down the opposite hole.
Kinda like this, which is about patching jeans, from the kids’ fiber-craft book I wrote with my friend Nicole and which I am hereby pimping. It’s such a good book, and all our kids are in it!
Here’s what the back of the card looks like when you’re done:
I don’t usually knot the yarn on the back, but you obviously could. And there it is! Done. A nice little weaving. And while you were working on it maybe you were thinking about what you wanted to write to your grieving person. Or maybe you weren’t? Because it doesn’t matter that much what you say. It just matters to say something so that they can feel all the invisible hands holding them up in the world. Carrying them across this hard part.
NOT THAT THIS HAS TO BE A CONDOLENCE CARD! Maybe you just feel like weaving something, for heaven’s sake! Why am I like this? Oh! But speaking of weaving! You have to pre-order this amazing book co-authored by Rose Pearlman and my new friend
who writes this wonderful substack, which I won’t butcher by trying to describe:The book is so gorgeous and inspiring and unfussy, and it uses and/or re-purposes so many materials you already have lying around: cardboard, brown paper, odds and ends of string and fabric and tape and old clothing. I love it love it love it. I mean, look at this project, woven on scrap cardboard from yarn they show you how to make from an old t-shirt, which is the best.
This is totally my jam. It’s probably yours too! Get this book and be happy; it comes out on May 7th. Plus, it’s spring! Look at these bright little faces. xo
Oh my gosh, as if life wasn't tragic and stressful enough at the moment, our beloved 19.75 year old cat with kidney disease had to be put to sleep this weekend when her body finally failed her. WHILE MY PARENTS ARE HERE VISITING. I can't wait for them to leave today so I can grieve the way I need to. And, my mother must be losing all of her filters, as there is a constant refrain of, "Why did you do this? Why that way? Why not this way? I do..." about everything from light bulbs to loading the dishwasher to why didn't I bring my baby's body home so the other cat could see that she was dead. Umm, he KNEW something was wrong AND we just inherited him last year and they were not friends. I really don't think she would've wanted me to bring her home for him to sniff her. Oh, and "Well, you're getting her ashes, right?" Duh. Of course I am. My kids have instructions to mix all of the cat ashes with mine and to sprinkle us where I've asked to be sprinkled. This from a woman who has criticized me for keeping all of the ashes, because where will I keep them. WTF. Oof. Thanks for the space to vent.
Having just lost my mother, this post deeply resonates with me. I must say, the number one thing that has brought me any sliver of comfort is to receive a card in the mail. So you really know, Catherine! I didn’t know until I lost my mom. I have a shelf I display all my cards on and I feel like they beam out love to me whenever I walk by. I can’t imagine receiving a card with a weaving on it! Imagine the love that shoots out of that card! POW! Also your book, we all want impossible things, is in the line up of books that have helped me through this grieving process. I read it when it came out and then read it again when my mom was in hospice about a month ago. I recommend it to every single person. Anyway, thanks forever for your wisdom and your humor and of course, your chickpea recipes. Big love.