My mom told me that the trip from Makati to Tagaytay would take around two hours that day. I promptly placed a ball of yarn and knitting needles in my bag, strangely looking forward to 120 minutes of turning thin strings into a thick scarf.

I knitted the entire car ride without stopping. My older sister, seated beside me, playfully teased me for having a “grandma’s hobby.” I laughed, telling her I’d knit her an ugly Christmas sweater when I had the skill.

The ends of wooden needles poked out of my purse and the color of the yarn clashed with my dress. My family was attending a formal event for their company, so most of my relatives would be attending, as well. There wouldn’t be any other people my age at the function, so I decided to knit there as well. I took out my knitting needles and yarn, finishing the project I had started on the way there. Then, one of my great-aunts approached me and asked me about the type of yarn I was using.

“Combed cotton, sunset ombre knitting yarn,” I replied happily, looking up from my unfinished scarf. “I bought it online.”

That sparked a long and engaging conversation. We talked about different knitting patterns. A few minutes later, my other relatives—her siblings—joined us. I wound up chatting the night away with the so-called “seniors” of the event, but it never felt that way. There was no generational gap and if these women were six decades younger, we would’ve instantly clicked at school. I was never close to my extended family but after that night, it was like I had been close to them my entire life.

I knew knitting would give me opportunities to relax and be creative. However, I never anticipated that my “old-lady hobby” would allow me to connect with family.

Knitting lessons from my great-aunts

Mistakes can make you beautiful. Dropping a stitch during knitting is one of the worst mistakes you can make. Even if it’s just a single stitch, the whole design can be ruined or destroyed. One of my great-aunts that night had a cardigan she knit herself inside her bag, just in case the venue was too cold. I examined the intricate dips in the design and asked her if she could teach me the pattern. To my surprise, she smiled, saying, “Those are all dropped stitches I amended.” Sometimes, mistakes are meant to be made, and it’s for a beautiful reason. The beauty of mistakes is that we’re able to learn, repurpose and rebuild.

Accomplishments are accomplishments, no matter the size. Up till that day, I’ve only ever knitted small pieces that could be finished easily. I listened in awe as my relatives spoke about self-made quilts and dresses, but when we started talking about our first creations, I realized that I had just the same beginner’s struggles as them. I was reminded that all progress is something to be proud of.

Try new hobbies. Frankly, seeing a 14-year-old knit at a party was weird. Knitting in general is a hobby not many want to take up. It wasn’t as mainstream as crochet, and it was more associated with grannies in rocking chairs, but without it, I would have never really known my family.

I’d hate to think about how differently that party would’ve gone if I didn’t how to knit. —CONTRIBUTED