A Hat, Matt, a House Buyer & Me
Posted December 30, 2016on:
The most extraordinary thing happened today in a time of extraordinary happenings in my life. The woman who bought our old house in 1989 sent me a knitted hat and a letter with this story.
She said she was not sure how I would take this story but wanted me to know why she knitted that hat, which is beautiful and goes beautifully with my coat.
When she heard my cancer was back, she decided to knit me a hat, “But life got away with other circumstances.” Around that time, her house was creaking and making noises that she did not recognize. “But these noises were different – and louder. Even my dog was noticing, looking off in the direction of the sounds and looking at me, perplexed. Finally one evening I said in jest, ‘OK, Matt. I’ll get started on the hat.”
The noises went back to normal when she started knitting. After she finished the hat’s band, she went looking for more yarn for the band, a ball of yarn rolled across the room and stopped at her feet. She believes Matt picked it out for her and it was a perfect match to the band. She finished the hat several weeks ago and could not decide how to get it to me and whether to tell the story.
The noises came back. “So here it is, the hat I believe Matt wants you to have. As I said, all of this may be coincidental. But I think a loving son wants his mother to have this hat,” she wrote.
How do I feel about this hat and story? It’s a magical world and I love the idea of Matt communicating with this woman in the house where he lived before his death in 1986.
The biggest fear that parents have when they lose a child is he or she will be forgotten. In a very unlucky category of life, I am very lucky because Matt is remembered by many people 30 years later.
I loved the kindness behind this story. It’s extraordinary as the many supporters of me have been in the last few months. In another very unlucky category of life, I am lucky again.
I should take a photo with the hat on, but I take a terrible selfie. Trust me, you wouldn’t like the selfie – or perhaps vain me would not.
So thank you wonderful house buyer, who I have not seen in decades except perhaps across a room or across a street when I wondered if she remembered me. And apparently she wondered if I remembered her, which I did.
It’s a magical story for a magical world.