I knitted a blanket from my late mom’s sweaters for my baby brother — my stepmother threw it in the dumpster, but then my grandma made her regret it.
I’m 16, and a year ago my mom died giving birth to my baby brother.
For the first few months it was just me, my dad, and baby Andrew.
Three months later he started dating one of Mom’s old friends, Melissa, saying he couldn’t raise two kids alone. Six months later they were married, and she moved in, rearranging the house like it had always been hers.
The only person who really understood how strange everything felt was my grandma, my dad’s mom. She checked on me constantly and was the one who taught me to knit.
As Andrew’s first birthday got closer, I wanted to make him something special. He’ll grow up only hearing stories about Mom, so I took a few of her old sweaters and unraveled the yarn. It took weeks to turn them into a soft blanket.
I thought it was perfect — something warm, something from Mom, something he could keep.
I gave it to him during his birthday dinner. Everyone was there. When I unfolded it, Grandma gasped and said it was beautiful. She looked so proud of me it almost hurt.
For a moment, everything felt right.
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