She made her family sweaters and scarves,
showed her daughter how to do needlework.
As she got older Alzheimer’s crept in
and snipped the strands of memory.
In the early stages she sat on the couch for hours
crocheting booties and mittens.
In the later stages her creations were chaotic,
odd strands of knots.
Her daughter sat next to her
unraveling her mother’s rambles
then used the yarn to knit a shroud.
Who of us can come directly
from this rat’s nest
to stand before our just God?
When this life is done
we sit on a couch with an angel
who shows us how to undo the tangles
helps us stretch out the kinks
guides us to straighten the twists.
As we unravel the mess
we see the pattern we missed.
Gradually the knots release
so that we can be rewoven.
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