December, 1973. Auckland, New Zealand.

 

 

I never had anyone knit me a sweater  before.
It was a unique experience, I must admit.

 

Every now and then you'd spin me around  and
measure the different parts against me, as you'd
completed them.

 

You'd said it helped pass the time  between your
night-shift hospital duties and rounds.

 

When it was finished it was beautiful,  with three
buttons, from the shoulder to neckline.
I wore it proudly  and showed it off to everyone.

 

Every stitch, a piece of your thoughts  just for me,

interlocked with the wool.

 

Every stitch, a piece of your time just  for me, when I
wasn't there.

 

Every stitch, a piece of you heart just  for me, I will
repay tenfold.