It's been over two years since I've posted and while the long hiatus was intentional, I've realized I catch myself still thinking in "posts". It's always so cathartic to get my thoughts out of my chaotic head. Enough on that .......
Hands.
I catch myself looking at my hands occasionally and seeing how increasingly more they resemble my late mother's hands. It's really around the knuckles that I see it - we come from some seriously sturdy knuckle DNA, she and I. You might also call them manly knuckles, but strong nonetheless. My mother never liked to wear rings and the older I get I understand why! Sometimes it feels like I'm tightening a bolt over a screw that doesn't fit. Isn't it funny that when I'm missing my mom - I sometimes think of her hands? And in the days before her death, I held her hand and stared so intently at it so that I wouldn't forget what it looked and felt like.
Why do we miss our mother's hands so much after they're gone? I suppose the obvious answer is that they carried, wiped, fed, burped, played, turned pages, scolded, braided, cooked, served, folded, scrubbed, hugged and so many other things with their hands -- just as I am doing now with my kids. Mothering hands really are beautiful, aren't they? One touch from them can promise so much love and comfort.
As soon as I remember how to post pictures, I'm going to post a picture of my hands so that my own kids always remember what mine look like. Also, I figure I better take the pictures now because these bolts are only getting bigger!
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