dear jen bragg,
Sparkling blue eyes, dark, curly hair.
I didn't know you for long. We worked together for only a short time. But in that time I most certainly noticed, dear Miss Jen, that you were often wearing THE MOST GORGEOUS sweaters. And one day I  asked "did you make that?" And when you answered "yes", oh I soon became so enamored of you.
For you earnestly answered my questions about how you learned to knit. And then I heard about the knitting(oh dear, my words, I don't think it was called this)"convention that you would go to yearly.
And then I pondered your natural loveliness and thought how nice to have such a delightful and effervescent being on this planet. All love and goodness.
And then, oh shit Miss Jen, that day in December.
Oh shit, Miss Jen, I thought of your daughter.
And how the milk stopped flowing.
And how she would never learn to knit from her mama.
And how unfair that is.
That unfairness.
I am sure that your daughter is surround by love and memories of you.
I would like you to know, sweet girl, that from afar, I too, hold sweet memories of you, forever knitting, forever loving your girl form afar.
Forever orbiting the planet, knitting needles clicking. I picture you keeping us all blanketed, sweater-ed, scarfed, hatted, mittened and afghan-ed all in your loving embrace.
I think of you with much fondness, even though I only knew you for such a short time.
You are not forgotten.