The first time

Since my mother died in december 2002 I dreamt of her... There was a story too, of which I cannot remember only that I was hugging her, crying saying "anyukám, anyukám" (my mommy, my mommy)...
Which is kinda strange, because I never adressed her than way. I called her "anyu (mom)...

Back then she died rather suddenly, within four weeks from the poing she fallen ill, to her actual death.The last time I've met her I had no idea there was something wrong, from the point she wat taken to the hospital, she was not in a shaoe when she could be communicated with...so I simply had no chance to say goodby.
I inherited part of my creative genes from her (the other half from my paternal granma), and I often think what would she think of me now... what would she think of the new tools, the new techniques we use in modern knitting, what would she think of the internet, of Ravelry for that matter. What would she think of my fair isle knitting? The lace shawls? The spinning? the knitting klub? Would she come?