The Vest of Shame

I have not been completely honest, and today that little lie has caught up with me. The Vest of Shame A.K.A. Skye Tweed Vest, was not knit for my father. It began as a vest for my ailing grandfather. I've been telling myself all of these years that I could just finish this vest, give it to someone else, and forget all about the real reason I didn't want to look at it.
I first began knitting this vest after my grandfather was diagnosed with cancer. My grandfather began to get smaller, and smaller. It suddenly seemed like the size I had chosen was going to be way too big. I was terrified that I wouldn't finish it in time, and so I started a hat. Every time I knit on the hat I cried. I couldn't do it. Somehow, it was an admission that he was really sick. It was a chemo cap. I didn't want to believe that he was going to be sick enough to lose his hair. So today, staring at that vest of shame lying in it's bath, I realized that this couldn't be pawned off on my unsuspecting father.




This vest is a vest of shame, because I'm ashamed that I didn't have the courage to finish it while my grandfather was still alive. I guess if I think about what my grandfather would say if he were here, he'd probably tell me that he knows that I love him, and that no amount of cabling, no matter how complicated, would ever be needed to convince him of that fact. He was a wonderful grandpa, and today I am missing him very much. This might explain the swatching. I needed something to cheer me up. Please don't judge me. It's only swatching, after all.