The Red Cardigan That Waited Fifteen Years: A Grandmother’s Love Woven in Every Stitch
When I turned eighteen, my grandmother gave me a red cardigan—hand-knitted, simple, and not the kind of gift I thought mattered at that age. I remember smiling politely, saying “thanks,” and setting it aside, not realizing that her tired hands had poured months of care into every loop and thread. She passed away just weeks…