Her fingers are wrapped with the blue yarn and she holds her crochet needle like a pencil. My grandma taught me to hold the crochet needle differently, so I am amazed that she is able to make any stitches at all. Her hands shake and the process seems like a struggle to me. I can envision my fingers making the same stitches: single crochet, triple crochet, single crochet. It would take me half the time to make as many stitches as she is making, but it doesn’t feel like a struggle to her. She is talking amiably to her friend, both of them completely unaware of my discomfort.

It would probably be rude to take a picture of her hands right now, huh? I’ll just have to remember this when I am old and my hands shake. I can only hope that it won’t feel like a struggle to me by then.