Knit Together

I met Maria Caraballo over a decade ago in our neighborhood. She's been married 22 years and lives next door to her in-laws. For a long time, the only chance we got to see each other was when our girls, Virginia and Gabriella, played together. Then they didn't, and our relationship ebbed and flowed as theirs did, but for mature, grown-up reasons instead of childish ones. Not only did she run a busy general contractor's office, she also took in extra work bookkeeping.  That was in addition to shuttling her two girls here and yon and running a household. Life was busy.

We were, after all, from two different worlds: the working mom and the stay-at-home Mom. In the early years, she struggled and juggled the best day care with the schedules of a two-career household; I homeschooled four daughters and made do on one income. As she once said, "You and I have just lived totally different adult lives."

And yet when the challenges of raising teenage daughters drew us together, we discovered common threads: a true-blue thread of respect and loyalty to our husbands, a fiery red strand of maternal passion, variegated green fibers of justice and feminism and a bodacious purple strand of irreverent humor.

As the girls grew up we found that what had formed our friendship most was our faith—a lovely, complex fringe of black, white and gray that outlines and defines the margins of our relationship. Lovely because it is genuine, complex because I am Protestant and she is Catholic, black, white and gray because, well it is.

Maybe I think in yarn colors when I think of Maria because she loves to knit. Every Tuesday night is Knit Night at The Whole Nine Yarns in Woodstock. She has carved out that night for herself to sit, gab and knit. I've seen what those nights have produced, everything from chunky and widely woven scarves to funky hats to the finished glory of entire sweaters. Aside from the textiles, she has also knit together the kinds of friendships that come not only from a common interest but from taking the time to get to know one another.

Recently, Maria mentored me as I entered the business world after 23 years at home. After a brutal and exhausting business-attire shopping sortie, my head spun with everything I had to do to look like a professional. My purse had to match my shoes, which had to match my belt? I cannot wear panty hose? Gone was my previous cute and comfy 'uniform':  jeans-and-tank-top. 

She had offered her makeover advice and shopping company with her friendship, but in gratitude I wanted to treat her to an upscale lunch. Over Chilean Sea Bass, asparagus and white wine, I told her that the fact that she accomplishes what most men do in a week was not what impressed me. It was that she did all that with clean-shaven legs, in high heels, her nails done and her lipstick on straight, to boot. And she often cooks dinner! I had learned a lot.

Apparently despite our "different adult lives," we are knit together in ways even we don't understand.

And now you've met Maria.