For as long as I can remember, my dad unwinds after a long day by sitting in his recliner, watching TV, and crocheting. Raised by a single mom who also crocheted, it always makes me chuckle watching him yell at the TV when a referee of whatever sport he’s watching makes the “wrong” call as he yells, “OH, give me a break!” with his crochet hook in one hand and his latest project in the other. I also never tire of my dad’s “hooker” jokes. Watching my dad crochet is something I find relaxing. It brings me comfort. It also brings me lots of handmade treasures.

When I started attending 12-step meetings back in the day, I noticed many people would bring their crochet and knitting projects into the church basements where we gathered. As much as I admire the skill of this craft, I’ve never wanted to learn how to do it on my own. I don’t think I have the patience for it. I’m more of an immediate gratification kind of gal.

Watching these strangers spin their yarn during the meetings always had the same calming effect on me as being around my dad. It makes me feel comfortable because it reminds me of home. Home is still where I feel the safest. Many people in recovery from alcohol and drug abuse disorder grew up in a troubled and broken home. That wasn’t my experience. My dad always provided for us and always made sure we were safe. I have many fond memories of my childhood.

My dad can legit crochet anything.

His only requirement is to provide him with the pattern and maybe kick in for the yarn or thread. I learned several years ago that sending him a photo of something I found on Pinterest wouldn’t cut it. Give the man his pattern and let him get to work. From my memory, here is a list of items he’s made for me over the years: gloves, hats, scarves, holiday decorations, a necklace, and blankets. There are so many blankets!

Once, I purchased a Star Wars figurine crochet kit, and he even made those for me. I don’t know that he enjoyed making these, but he knows I love Star Wars. That’s just one of the many life lessons my dad has taught me—sometimes we do things for other people, even when we don’t enjoy the process, because we know it will make them feel special and loved. My dad is good at making me feel loved.

The Custom Crocheted Table Cloth

Several years back (think early 2019), I asked my dad if he would make me a tablecloth for my dining room table. Shortly after, we ventured out to Michael’s to pick out the threads in the color scheme I desired. My home décor taste has frequently changed over the years, but I think where I’ve landed is maximalist eclectic. I want to surround myself with things that bring me joy. I can tell that I’m slowly turning into my Grandma Bryson because of my love of Knick-knacks and my inability to get rid of things I love, even if they no longer serve a purpose. (It’s not hoarding if your things are cool!)

Back home at my parents’ house, we flipped through his collection of crochet pattern books until I settled on two or three motifs, 4″ x 4″ patterns, that we agreed would work together. My dad got to work, and time continued to march on. Not that I needed more reasons to call my parents, but this gave me one more reason to call and see how his progress was going.

My dad told me each 4″ x 4″ motif took approximately 45 minutes, and he had a personal goal of completing one to two motifs daily. Due to the nature of the pattern, which called for thread instead of yarn, the patterns were highly delicate. It was physically too challenging to make more than two per day. Curious how many motifs it took to create my tablecloth? Approximately 192 squares, totaling nearly 150 hours of work with his hands.

And I love it. I love it so much—yet another example of my dad leading by example of how to be of service to others. Making this tablecloth brought my dad joy because he knew I would love and treasure it. Bringing me joy was worth the effort for him. Since getting sober, this is a lesson I learned to value. Acts of service can be incredibly rewarding because they take you out of yourself, putting you in the space to think of others first. My recovery reinforced this, but it’s my dad who has been showing me this with his actions my entire life.

Do you know how people have those towels in bathrooms that are only for when guests are over? My friends and I call them No-No towels. This tablecloth became my No-No tablecloth. You can look, but don’t touch it. And under no circumstances is anyone to have food or drinks anywhere near it. Thankfully, I’m not much of a cook, so I rarely host dinner parties.

Sadly, I could only display this beautiful labor of love for a few months until the global pandemic hit in March 2020. My dining room table became my master control hub for everything work and Sober Curator related. I carefully packed up my table treasure and moved it into the closet, and I hadn’t seen it in over two years. Shortly before the pandemic, my son moved back in with me and took over my cloffice space. (That’s a closet-office hybrid LOL)

I look forward to the day that I can work from a different space, and this crocheted showpiece can return to its rightful place on my dining room table.

There are many gifts of recovery, but deepening the relationships with both of my parents is at the top of that list. My heart still aches when I think of all that I put them through, the sleepless nights, constant worry, and never-ending damage control they went through due to my unforgivable behaviors when I was in active addiction. But they forgave me, and I regained their trust over time. And one day at a time, I will do everything within my power not to break that trust again.

This is what it’s like to live in long-term recovery. Things do get more manageable, and your problems do get classier. The best part is learning to reflect the love of the people who never left your side during all those dark years. In my eyes, my parents are the true heroes for enduring everything I put them through. And all these years later, they loved me enough to spend nearly 150 hours making me a tablecloth. Drunk Alysse maybe deserved a plastic tablecloth from the dollar store.

I love you, pops! Thank you for my beautiful tablecloth and all of the other handcrafted items you’ve made for me and my friends over the years. Did I mention this crochet handbag I’ve been eyeing on Pinterest? Don’t worry; I’ll call you!

Check out my IG Reel HERE.

CURATED CRAFTS: You got sober, now what are you going to do to keep your hands busy? And no, you don’t have to take up knitting. Although, if you enjoy it, then get your knit on homie!

Resources Are Available

If you or someone you know is experiencing difficulties surrounding alcoholism, addiction, or mental illness, please reach out and ask for help. People everywhere can and want to help; you just have to know where to look. And continue to look until you find what works for you. Click here for a list of regional and national resources.