To me crocheting is a sense of accomplishment, an amazement that a length of string is formed into such beauty, a time of peacefulness, creativity, amusement ... I guess I could go on and on. I think most important is its like an old, trusted friend spending hours of comfort and gladness especially in an otherwise situation. During my parents' illnesses I spent countless hours crocheting at their bedsides. It helped relieve some of the weariness of those years and rendered some very beautiful pieces to my collection, mostly doilies as there was much less to carry when using thread. For many years I carried a bag in my car at all times with the few items that helped preserve my sanity during those times ... my Liturgy of the Hours for prayer and a ball of thread, a crochet hook and a doily pattern.
Crocheting brought about some wonderful conversations with hospital or nursing home workers as well as with others who were there visiting their families; watching and waiting.
I learned to crochet almost 40 years ago. My mother-in-law taught me. Although right handed, she patiently showed me, a left hander, the "ropes"! For quite some time I would go to her to have her start a project even though it was quite simple (easy for me to say now!). Afghans and baby blankets were the pattern of choice as their simplicity was needed as I could not make heads or tails out of reading a pattern and I would write down in my own words what I needed to do to transform a skein of yarn.