The spirit of giving

ALS Support Ribbon Keyhole Scarf

Materials:
1 skein Caron Simply Soft in white (color A)
1 skein Caron Simply Soft in navy blue (color B)
Size J hook (or most comfortable hook working with WW yarn)

Note: after each row, break yarn, leaving 6-8" tail.

With A, ch 131.
Row 1: 130 sc in A.  ch 3 in B; turn.
Row 2: 130 dc in B.  ch 3 in A; turn.
Row 3: 130 dc in A.  ch 3 in B; turn.
Row 4: 130 dc in B.  ch 3 in A; turn.
Row 5: 130 dc in A.  ch 1 in B; turn.
Row 5: 130 sc in B.  ch 1 in A; turn.
Row 6: 90 sc in A.  ch 18.  22 sc.  ch 3 in B; turn.
Row 7: 130 dc in B, working into the back bumps of the chains made in the previous row.  ch 3 in A; turn.
Row 8: 130 dc in A.  ch 3 in B; turn.
Row 9: 130 dc in B.  ch 3 in A; turn.
Row 10: 130 dc in A.  ch 1 in B; turn.
Row 11: 130 sc in B.  Bind off.
Weave in ends.  Optionally, you can leave them hanging off as fringe.  If so, knot the ends together to make sure they don't unravel.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Sometimes I struggle with creating things for charity.  Not that I'm a selfish person - I'm really more of a perfectionist, and most everything I'm doing right now is experiments and swatches.  I don't want to give away anything where I don't feel confident in the execution and design.

Except for this one.  Here, I didn't struggle at all.

In the fall of 2010, Dr. Eric McLaren, the principle of the Illinois Math and Science Academy (IMSA, my alma mater), was diagnosed with ALS.  I'd had a few encounters with him during my time at IMSA - only one of them to discuss my discipline, thankfully - and couldn't believe the news.  To that point in my life, ALS had been that disease Lou Gehrig had that I could never remember the name of.

Then, in February 2012, IMSA sent an email to its alumni saying that he was in a long-term care facility in Sycamore, IL, and that all were welcome to visit him.  I don't really know what my compulsion was, but I called up a fellow alumnus and said, "I'm going.  Want to come with me?"

So we grabbed a bunch of flowers and hit the road.  I was living in North Aurora at the time, so the drive really wasn't too bad.  As we sat in the car, quietly lumbering down I-88, my friend asked me, "Is this going to be really awkward?"  In all honesty, I didn't know, though I harbored the same fear.  Here was a man that we knew, if not closely, with a debilitating physical disease that was completely alien to us.  I still wasn't sure why I was going.  Was it to comfort him?  Was it to calm some weird part of my conscience that was feeling uneasy?

I'm not particularly familiar with or comfortable around hospitals, so it was an odd feeling to check in as a visitor.  We wandered down a few winding hallways, passing bed after bed of weak and non-responsive human beings.  Watching the absence of hope and vitality seeded a pit in my stomach, worrying me about where this visit would go.  Finally, we came to his room.

The recognition was immediate, as was the smile.  It had been 9 years since we had graduated, and it didn't matter.  There was a bit of a shock to see him in a neck brace and intubated - his muscles could no longer support breathing on his own.  But he could still communicate by use of a poster board and his legs, and his wife was there with him to help translate.

And then we just talked.

I think it was at least an hour that we just rehashed IMSA stuff and talked about where the winds had blown us since then.  My story was a bit less glamorous than my U of C-graduated Cornell-studying physics friend, but he also wanted to hear about my husband who was finishing up his PhD and looking for professorships (I didn't realize until then that they were fellow NIU grads).  We talked about the scrapes we got into as teenagers and the ways we were keeping connected.  It was one of the most delightfully normal experiences that I've ever had, which others have discovered as well.  His spirit just refused to be broken, and he continues to do what he can to live productively with this disease.

I did feel more at ease, knowing I was able to share that experience with him.

Then came August.

My mother sent my siblings and me an email titled "why it's important to keep in touch".  Now, I'm used to the slight touch of guilt-trip in many of my mother's emails - let's face it, even if she's not practicing now, she was raised Jewish - so this could've been any number of things, many of the guesses in my head seeming quite trivial.

It turned out that the woman next door had been diagnosed with ALS.

My family's actually had a very close relationship with our next-door neighbors ever since we moved to Illinois.  Ever since we were kids - and still to this day - they have brought over $100 savings bonds and a chocolate bunny every Easter for each of us.  I kid you not, this is every year, without fail.  When the husband had a heart attack several years ago, my parents started shoveling their driveway after every snow.  They even gave my husband and I an enormously generous wedding gift.  They've basically been interim grandparents for us.

I was completely distraught.  More than anything, I felt helpless.  I didn't know what to do.

As time passed, I decided to volunteer for IMSA's Intersession classes as an instructor.  Basically, it's a week of 3-hour class sessions that cover any topic that might be worth learning.  Like, say... crochet!  As I was constructing the course syllabus, I figured it would be good to have a pattern to give to the students, both as a "look, it's something you can crochet in your free time!" and a "look, you can design your own patterns, too!" project.

Boom - inspired.

I jumped online to look up the ALS support ribbon - since, let's face it, there's a ribbon for everything.  Sure enough, the ALS one is white and navy striped (maybe in honor of the Yankee?).  I'd seen tons of keyhole scarves before; surely that could be adapted to make a "ribbon" scarf.

The prototype took me two days (about 4 hours) to put together, and the reason I don't have a picture of it is because I wanted to make it an early Christmas present for my neighbor, so it left my hands before I even thought of taking one.  But it has the added bonus of being easy to wrap around the neck, so that as her motor skills decrease, she'll still be able to wear it.  (By the way, two skeins will likely make 3 scarves; I just haven't weighed it yet to find out the real yardage.)

The single crochets in the center just make the keyhole thinner and less awkward-looking than trying to chain over double crochets.  With the symmetry in the colors, it still looks right.

Also, this really could work for any support ribbon that's out there.  I found the ALS colors here; there's an enormous variety of color-coded causes on that site.

And if you find you have a little extra after you're done with your holiday shopping this year, please consider a donation to Project ALS.  They are working on research for a cure, as well as providing internships for young aspiring scientists (including students from IMSA).

Whether it's time or money, this holiday season, just remember to take a little time to give.