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I gently lifted pastel blankets from their plastic bin and looked at the crocheted edging for a long time before I dared glide my fingers along the scallops. Doing so mentally transported me to my grandmother’s front door and the many times I walked through it to find her crocheting.

“How are you feeling, Maw Maw?” I would ask.

“With my fingers,” she would say. And we would laugh, and she would lay aside her handiwork to visit with me and my children.

By using a small silver crochet hook and a ball of crochet thread, she embellished the edges of blankets that made their way to the babies in our family and beyond. And of the exceedingly few items I’ve kept, I’m grateful to have stored the blankets that once covered my children.

Working to wash a few spots from the stored blankets gave me time to think about Maw Maw. I wondered what she thought about during those hours she spent crocheting. Did she pray for the children who would receive them? Did she dream about the future generations who would be added to her family tree? Did she imagine that her blankets would one day wrap her great-great-grandchildren?

I chose two blankets and gave them to my newest grandchild Jackson Ford Michel, son of Geoffrey and Laura Michel. After almost a decade of oversized bows, smocked dresses, and princess-themed everything for five granddaughters, I have a grandson! He is the perfect addition to our family and has entered a world filled with people who love him.

When Jackson is wrapped in the blanket that once covered his dad, he will be swathed in a tangible reminder of a great-great-grandmother’s legacy of love.

Ronny can be reached at rmichel@rtconline.com.