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It was finally finished and when I tried it on I noticed there was a note attached: “This way, no matter how far you are, we will always be together” signed, “your mum”. It was such a lovely scarf; warm, stylish and made with love. Without any shadow of doubt, the best Christmas present I have ever received. The story behind its knitted nodes, however, started with a little mischievous lie, that had me wondering, a few days before, if I was actually sane.
“Mum, have you seen my cream scarf? I can’t find it in here and I would like to wear it tonight…” “I have no idea what you are talking about”, she said. One day after another passed and my cream scarf didn’t show up and I could have sworn I had left it in my wardrobe, folded on the first shelf. “You always forget things, I think you just left it in London” (…) seriously, mum? It was no coincidence that she had already started making a new scarf but back then, I didn’t notice the deceit behind my beautiful mothers face. I was actually starting to believe I left it in London, when one morning it appeared in my wardrobe, just the way I thought I left it. My first reaction was of happiness but then I thought, wait a minute, there is something wrong with this story; the scarf has been missing for three days, the same three days that your mum has been stitching a new one, in silence, the same three days she has made you believe you had a memory laps! “Mum? Could you come to my room please?” “Oh dear, here she goes”, she thought. The whole cover was blown up and yes she had to face the truth. The story started on a sunny Sunday morning with a little cold breeze and a lovely cream scarf waiting to be worn in ‘MY’ wardrobe. My mum was wearing a lovely military green baby doll dress with cream boots and she was looking for the perfect accessory when she and my cream scarf first met. They liked each other and my mum decided to wear it for a lunch with friends. My scarf received so many compliments, everyone loved it and she left absolutely happy making for the street, on a chilly early evening…until she lost it.
My mum realised that she had lost it as soon as I spoke those fateful words, “Mum, have you seen my cream scarf? I can’t find it in here and I would like to wear it tonight…” “Oh my dear God, where is the lovely scarf?”, she thought. And after that and for the three days that followed, she looked high and low during the day and knitted during the night, just in case. She came back to the same places she had gone, but the scarf didn’t appear. Just when she was about to lose faith, a friend of her called. “Hi, my neighbour has found a lovely cream scarf left next to her door and it looks like the one you were wearing the other day, have you lost it by any chance?” “By any chance!” she thought. Cleaning the crime scene was easy: washing machine at 30º, a few hours of Spanish sunlight, and folded the way it was inside ‘MY’ wardrobe, as if nothing had happened…
Rule number one of sharing clothes, always ask, rule number two, face the truth if an accident happens and rule number three (and the most important one) never, ever, under any circumstances, make others think they are crazy when you know for a fact, they are actually not! However, no matter how much I loved that scarf and no matter how much I was angry at my Mum for trying to deceive me, what amazes me the most is that the love I have for my Mum and the great lengths she went to to find or replace the missing scarf, brings nothing but warmth to my heart and a smile to my face. The scarf was a irreplaceable piece from ‘MY’ wardrobe, but my Mum is the only irreplaceable piece in ‘MY’ life.
By Laura Roig Vericat
