Tag: grief

Halloween Crochet Vest

Every October, I feel more alive. I don’t mean to sound like a cringe, halloween obsessed person. I think, October fills me with life because it is the first wave of chilly air, and gray, rainy skies. Summer’s heat and bright sun, is great, but I feel burnt out from the stimulation by the end of August. It’s a time to reset and rest, in the spooky season and colorful leaves.

For another reason, I’ve realized this year, Halloween feels like a recharging time, because it is a holiday that is just about fun. There is no family meal, no presents, no longing or ache for those who have died. It is a holiday that does have a focus more on death but in this healthier other space.

It gives me room to breathe before Thanksgiving and Christmas, and the anniversary of my Grandma’s passing, to feel free from this heaviness. For a moment, things feel simple and joyful again.

So to honor this time, I made my first Halloween themed garment with a self-drafted pattern using granny stitches, double crochet, and treble crochet to make this pullover vest breathable.

Purple, black, and orange are colors that work with my existing wardrobe so I believe this piece will fit in all year around…aside from the summer, for obvious reasons.

This is just one of many Halloween inspired creations, I am brewing up. I excited to see those come to life soon!

As a fellow neurodivergent person, or a neurotypical, do you look to October as a time to recharge? What’s your favorite “ber” month?

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#74 – Ain’t That Just the Way

So this week started off amazing. My mom and I began finding a healthy way forward, for real this time. Nothing shoved under the rug to deal with later. No festering. No harsh talk, instead patience, love, realness. It was truly an answer to prayer that I learned, required me to put into action what I was feeling.

I journaled all my raw feelings, and sat with what these words on paper showed me – I wanted more. I wanted realness, and nothing less. We each reaches this point at the same time, and it got better. Over last week, it got much better. Kinder. I even spent time with her on Sunday.

Monday morning though, life decided things were too good. Our family dog, Sully, became extremely sick. He had been dealing with some health issues over the past year, but it fell apart over night. He died on Tuesday. I am heartbroken, but crying together with my mom instead of on own like we did for other big losses.

I think the most challenging part of losing a pet is that sense of home you associate with them. He was my safe place for 14 years, all of my adulthood so far, and his steady love will always be missed.

Have you lost a pet? What helped you heal? I’m going to try to get back on track with writing next week, but yeah, life just keeps getting weirder, everyday.

Upcycling Pillowcases into a Vest and Skirt

What if the clothing we wear is more than just a garment, but connects us to the fibers of our being?

What if a pillowcase, from a loved one no longer here with you, could be more than just an item cluttering your closet? How could you repurpose it so the memories can walk with you in the new days ahead. All while the smell of their laundry detergent, and their home, so distinct to your senses, that being near it makes you feel comfort.

That is what this project is to me. More than an upcycle, or a thrifty hack, but a way to process feelings. Find a way forward. So the things left behind, that remind of what is missing, can do more than drown us in memory and stuff, but become a tangible way of healing.

Phone Calls in the Smartphone Era

As a Zillennial, on the cusp of both Gen Z and Millennials, my generation(s) have been stereotyped by the older folks as being afraid of phone calls, preferring a text to a voice on the other end of the line. And for a while, I’d say, yeah, I fell into this place of preferring a text as a teenager or chatting online, in my moody, insecure teenagedom, but then the phone call became this novelty of a thing. Calling someone seemed so serious, I became apprehensive if my question or answer was “serious” enough to warrant a call.

I didn’t want to be a burden, which is such a strange upside-down world from childhood, when the phone was the only way to contact your friends. I remember in the days of late elementary school, email being another exciting tool to communicate, like letters, but now email has become an intrusive contact on my smartphone. And maybe, that’s because email felt like real mail, when you could only check it on your window of computer time on the shared family computer. There was a boundary between online and offline. My mind has been marinating on this since watching a Theresa Yea video called, Why the Internet Will Never Be Cool Again.

I’m currently stuck in an endless game of phone tag, which is quite common when I am talking regularly to one of my parents. With my dad, it was a long game of waiting for that perfect window of nothingness. His layover in a city he found boring, I’d keep him company as he complained about life. Entertaining him and supporting him in his time of boredom, because if he were home, he was on the go every single moment. If I needed him, he would usually call me back on a drive home with a small set window for his attention span or horrible service.

My mom, in a similar fashion, gets stuck in these loops going non-stop. Except she answers the phone in loud restaurants, in the car, or at events, just to tell me that she is not available. She will even talk to other people around her, making me wait, or will pass the phone to the people she is with, as if I want to say hi to them when I really just wanted to converse with her about something important.

There is nothing like being on the brink of a panic attack and having your mom pass you to an acquaintance to say hi instead of listening to your crisis. Especially when you called because you thought they were home and available, but really, your loved one is always on the go. Not emotionally available. I hate calling and being met with passive-aggressive pressure to stop talking and let her go, even though she chose to answer the phone and enter into conversation like she was available at first, only to break that illusion as soon as you answer “how you are doing”. Read the room, kid, but honestly, how can I? This is particularly confusing when my parents both let me know how they would prefer me to live closer so I would be more available, but would it matter?

The video call and the text have become two of the most intrusive manners of communication, because a text should be responded to promptly and a video call, in her mind is perfectly normal to answer in a public setting like a restaurant or car without letting me know before I speak, what I believe I am saying in private to a person who is available to talk, to be swiftly gotcha-ed by the fact that I am not alone, and my privacy is not respected. The video call is like a two-edged sword; it is nice to connect with friends and family over long distances, but it is also a tool that hinders connection. It drops in unannounced and forces conversations that should be private to be open to the room.

I crave the dedicated correspondence of my grandma’s era, when she moved to another town, which meant that calling her mom would be categorized as long distance, and so she and her mom wrote letters to each other every day. I haven’t had that kind of connection with my mom since she got remarried, and I miss that feeling of connection, of being heard. It’s something that carried through my Grandma and my Aunt Florence’s generation, my phone calls with them being so intentional and full of connection. It was a visit, a catch-up, and was treated with hard boundaries. The common thread here is the lack of a smartphone.

Phones were still seen as tools to converse, not mini-computers full of distractions. I find this intentionality coming back to conversations I have with my friends; there are boundaries and moments set aside to converse without distractions. We have planned phone calls or dedicated pauses to set aside other tasks to write longer messages, like letters, through messaging apps. It has improved our communication and respect for each other’s time, in a way that I wish I could have with my parents. I just want to connect and not be connected. I want to converse and not call. I want to correspond and not text.

It is all a pipe dream, because this is never going to happen, they are just too enamoured with technology and the endless possibilities of their boomer generation, and the financial leg up that their generation has to be on the go and do things nearly constantly. We live in two different worlds, and that makes me sad.

Crafting in 2025

To and fro my footsteps roam, upon the miles of white, fluorescent aisle – vast, void, verigated, vexing wanderings. Where to next? Weaving textiles. Fiber miles spin, spun into nothingness. A paywall of digital footprint. Add to cart.

#69 – Joann Fabrics, A Crafter’s Thoughts, LYS

We are in a clickbait world, with insane thumbnails and exaggerated headlines. Over time I’ve learned to stop clicking, stop believing, to wait and see if there is an ounce of truth to the “news” on the screen. That was my strategy for the ongoing Joann’s bankruptcy story. They filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy in March 2024, which raised many red flags in my mind, but I wasn’t allowing myself to worry. Bankruptcy happens, it should be fine. I decided to wait and see with a cool and calm demeanor. In the meantime, I would craft and mind my business.

In the fall of 2024, a news headline caught my attention – Joann’s was closing a few stores nationwide, one of them being my local Joann Fabrics. What a weird coincidence! But only a few stores nationwide, my mind pondered, that must signify this is okay, right? They’ll close my small store and a few more, not a big deal. No need to be concerned. I have other Joann Fabric locations within driving distance, I’ll go to those!

As the news cycle went, I continued to see thumbnails of a concerning nature as we entered the new year, questions of Joann’s future, and whether they were closing their doors for good. What an odd way to get traffic, I thought. They filed almost a year ago and the consequence was a few stores that would shut down, are these creators making a mountain from a small pile of dirt? I ignored them and carried on my way, thinking of the projects I’d like to make and the yarns I’d plan to use from the ever-growing list of inspirations I have saved.

I love Joann’s Big Twist line along with their collaboration with Eddie Bauer. They have been my two most used yarns aside from Knit Picks in 2024. I use the Eddie Bauer for sock and accessory projects, while the Big Twist has been my go-to yarn for wearables like sweaters due to its soft not scratchy acrylic structure, which gets softer with wear and washing, it is such an affordable yarn that has helped me create in lean times.

I have the same affection for Joann’s fabric department! The amount of inspiration I have found from Joann’s clearance section has been a huge blessing to my sewing journey. It has provided an affordable way to try new fabrics and hone my fabric knowledge without the pressure of learning by sewing expensive fabric for these experimental projects. Some of my favorite makes have been possible because of the clearance section. I also adore their lightweight quilting cotton fabric for summer. It makes a great sundress and no, people don’t automatically see that it is quilting cotton like some sewists fear. The ribbons, the notions, buttons, zippers, thread, interfacing, patterns, embroidery thread, not to mention Halloween decor!

Over the weekend, my alarm bells rang out while watching a new TLYarnCrafts video, because Toni is not a clickbait creator. She and her mom, Gwen, went to their local Joann’s for one last trip just in case of closure. That’s when it sunk in, Joann Fabrics filed Chapter 11 bankruptcy again in January 2025, calling for its sale and possible liquidation by said buyer until Joann’s is gone. I began tracking the updates on Reddit this week and the news was grim with each passing day. My fellow sewists and yarn enthusiasts seem just as heartbroken and confused as I feel by this ominous development. I truly thought Joann Fabrics was turning the financial woes around by closing just a few stores, but I was wrong.

It’s a staple for me to shop there. My local yarn shop and local fabric shop where there isn’t a small local business to support in my area. Joann’s filled that void. It was my first fabric store experience and will always hold a special place in my heart for supplying access to items that gave me purpose through crafting when my life needed a new direction.

On Wednesday, the updates became utterly ridiculous. An official document from Joann Fabrics named 500 of their 800 locations across the United States marked for shutdown. Including all the ones in my area. After I sat with the news I began to feel despair, not for me, but for all the workers who were getting the rug pulled out from under them. I’ve been laid off in the past and it is such a bizarre feeling. You’re not losing your job for a better opportunity or because you screwed up, nothing about the reason which led to your layoff was connected to you. Yet it directly affects your life and it leaves you feeling empty, in my opinion.

There has been a lot of bad news here in the last two months – fires, plane crashes, Tulsi Gabbard being confirmed, etc. The air is ripe with change and I hope that every employee who is being affected by this can transition to their next step with as little stress as possible. You guys did nothing to deserve this, the leaders of your company are taking away a great resource for the crafting community due to their mismanagement, not yours. What a weird year this is and it’s only February.

So this is my little reflection on what Joann Fabrics has meant to me and I hope this is not the end. Even with the sale looming, I hope they will not get rid of the company entirely, it serves a good purpose that cannot be filled by Michaels or Hobby Lobby. This will be a new adventure for me to find other yarn and fabric stores, not local to me but a local small business for someone. Thankfully the internet does exist so who knows where this will find me.

What will never be the same though is the ability to go look at fabric and yarn in person in a store that had it all in the same place, only catering to creative endeavors at an affordable price. It was a third place to be around others who liked the same crafts as me. I’m going to miss the connection to others and the lovely fabric-cutting humans who more often than not had more sewing experience than I had years lived that helped me numerous times formulate my sewing plans. Even if I didn’t agree with them, they were usually right when I went rogue and used fabric not meant for that project. I’m going to miss that.

Letters of Healing – #1

Dear Grandma and Papa,

How are you doing? I know you guys are doing well. You’re together, and you’re not in pain anymore. You guys are not separate and are feeling the healing of that yourself.

It’s been a journey here without you guys. It got a bit scary for a while. Things got weird and frightening, but after four years, things are feeling familiar and more like usual. I didn’t think it could be possible, but I guess deep down I knew it could be, because you both found a new normal after losing your parents. I guess I felt guilty and strange letting my life go on without you for myself. It wasn’t what I wanted and I resisted healing for a season because I was in denial.

I found this composer, a fellow I think you with the proper introduction to his music, would be a person you guys would enjoy. He has the emotion and the beautiful storytelling in his music that I remember you both liking. His name is Joe Hisaishi. He composed the music for several films from a company called Studio Ghibli which I think you would prefer to Disney in this current moment. It took me a while to appreciate Hayao Miyazaki’s storytelling because it was so different from what the Disney formula is. The cultural parts, I think took the longest.

I know Japan was a bit of a mystery to you guys just based on your generation. You grew up with a different version – the Imperial Japan bombing of Pearl Harbor and the War in the Pacific were your first introduction as kids, growing up during WWII. It was a cultural relationship that did not have a chance to bloom.

My generation had a different introduction to their culture – sushi, ramen, Hello Kitty, anime, Studio Ghibli, Ninja Warrior, Harajuku fashion, and Nintendo. It was a different side of Japan. In college a professor you would know, Doyle, hosted a class about East Asian Film and Literature. It was quite the overview for one semester mind you, but in that short time he showed us some pieces of storytelling I still remember like Hero, Red Wall, and Princess Mononoke.

The last one, Princess Mononoke was a Ghibli film, my first one. The illustrations were incredible and the message felt so familar because of the region we all lived in – the rust belt. But what captured my admiration the most was the music. It was stirring, haunting, sad and hopeful, a courageous melody that swept over me in its beauty.

A few years later, Kyle and I watched My Neighbor Totoro which is such a heartwarming tale. This one set me on a new goal – I need to see Japan before I die so I can see those rural vistas captured in the illustrations of Totoro. I started learning Japanese since you’ve gone, which is a story for another time, but this probably sparked that journey.

This image from Totoro makes me think of the times we would go puddle jumping together, Papa, when I was a little kid. You made life so magical, both of you.

Anyways, there’s a song in particular, Grandma, that I think you would love. Actually I think you would love to play. The one recording of it on the album I was listening to has a piano solo by Hisaishi that has the same fervor and candence of the style you played in. I can close my eyes and pretend we’re in your piano room, you’re talking away as your playing it, and the room is filled the sound of the keys. This song is called the Merry-Go-Round of Life from the film Howl’s Moving Castle. (One I still need to watch.)

I wish I could play it for you. I wish I could play all of his songs for you. I wish we could listen to them on the boom box in the kitchen as Papa and I sat on the stools along the counter and tried to coax you, Grandma to just settle in and listen instead of tidying or cooking, or wandering around the way you used to.

I miss you. But I’m trying to not dwell on what I cannot change.

Love,

Magzie

What Does a Shadow do When the Shape is Gone?

Day breaks upon your expectant face, and the birds sing for you.

A cup of coffee and a table set.

Sunrises, newspapers, the melody of your voice.

I’m lost without your light.

Shadow, little, shy.

They tell me to keep going. Chin up, grow up but I still feel small.

Morning is not as bright. The bird’s song is hollow.

What is coffee if you’re not making it?

Little, shy. Goodbye.

—

And just like that, 4 years pass by?

To Rest and Not Wonder

Toss and turn.

Crash and hiss.

Waves break upon my mind’s own sigh.

I see distortion, of water in senseless motion.

I want to find an oasis,

the peace of pillow and sheets.

To rest and not wander.

Wondering whether I meant anything to you?

It’s rising in my mind.

Will I find a break in the tide?

Pondering my queue of regret, does 1:30’s Captain sail forward or back?

History wakes so I can’t sleep. Missing you.

The idea of you,

seems bigger than my eye shut.

But I’m a princess when you’re a pirate.

My sword, my cuts, sink our hope of steady winds.

Will I find a break from this tide?

I see distortion when words don’t take motion.

It’s bigger than the wind in the sails.

Hair in my eyes, hiding my hunger, my hunger to cut lines.

1:30’s Captain by the water of senseless fortune

I want an oasis!

The peace of pillow and sheets.

I miss you.

I Struggle in December

December is a weird month. I like Christmas and in the same breath, all the holiday joy reminds me of loved ones who aren’t with me anymore. The darkness of winter, the time change, and dreary gray days have felt like my mind washing over my environment when I get sad.

My grandma passed away on December 18, a few years ago now. Before she passed, our family holidays moved from being at home to being celebrated at a nursing home because my papa had broken his neck and wasn’t able to recover fully from the injury at 80 years old. The season has felt a little empty now for seven years. It hasn’t been all bad, my husband and I have created new traditions and I’ve found a lot of joy in rejecting the tradition and finding new ways to enjoy the season. Making things and being generous to others, whether in my community or social circle, has been the best way to make this month joyful for me personally.

Potato Technology’s A/W 2022 was about this exact point, I wanted to make things for the people who showered me with love and encouragement as I found my way back from grief to a new normal. The last Christmas season before the pandemic, we made cards for a local nursing home and that is still one of my favorite Christmas memories of the last seven years.

That was the same year my brother came to visit me on Christmas. We never spent a holiday together in our 26 years of being brother and sister. It was cool and also hard to process. I think there will never be enough time or enough normalcy to make my relationship with my brothers feel whole because we didn’t get the chance to have that and had to make our own traditions with our separate moms. My sister’s existence with another mom makes the entire thing more complicated, as I have been both shoehorned into that nuclear family even though I don’t belong and have been passed over for the normalcy of my sister’s two-parent home.

My dad and my stepmom don’t understand boundaries. If I put up a boundary, they tear it down. They even weaponize this time of year to make me feel guilty. Before I cut off contact it was guilt to be at their house in south Georgia for every Thanksgiving and Christmas on my dime. This irks me because they are incredibly rich compared to me and most people in my life and it’s unfair to place these financial and emotional expectations on me. Since I have cut contact because I got tired of the toxic environment, I get a reminder of my failure with a Christmas card and sometimes a present. The card used to come from my dad but as I have not done as he wished, it now comes from his wife and has become more cutting.

I’m not sure if it will come this year but it hangs over my mind as I feel grief that my dad can’t be in my life without hurting me, and if I take a step back from the dysfunction for my own sanity, I receive nasty cards reminding me how it is all my fault. Merry Christmas, you’re failing us as a daughter. In reality, the situation is complicated and I am sure at fault for things but the sheer inability to acknowledge that it takes two people in a relationship to make it or break it baffles me.

I think all this baggage could be why, I am utterly distraught that my friendship with a friend I met in college which was honestly always dysfunctional, and probably better for both of us to go separate ways, has ended abruptly. Even though I saw it coming and was honestly on borrowed time, the fact that it fell apart at this time of the year is bringing me quite low. I don’t understand how it all happened as quickly as it did. Because I’ve lived so many years now with those nasty Christmas cards, I can’t help thinking this is all my fault and that I didn’t mean much to her anyway. Which is crazy because I know that our friendship did mean a lot.

Man, this time of the year is not as holly or jolly as those songs claim. It is complicated because it can’t be perfect like the movies tell us it will be. If you are having a hard time, know that I’m here for you and I’m sending you love through my keyboard because I am not doing well either. Thank you for spending a bit of your day with me.

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