These Hands

 

This hand holding onto mine. It has held onto mine in many cases, under many circumstances.

These hands. The pair of them has held up my own when I was too weak to do it myself.  They have worked until calloused, bruised and raw. They have pushed pencils, cars, and life. These hands have been gentle to my newborn children and solid to their teenage behinds. They have been Papaw. They have been through the best life has given us and the worst when death has cheated us.

These hands. They represent all that is good in the world of being a man, a father, a husband and a friend. They have taken in my husband as one of their own. These hands have respected him as he has navigated being married to me, fathering our children and now moving toward empty nesting. They have also loved my sister in law through moments when she needed a father because she already lost her own.

These hands. They have taught countless hours from a chalkboard to a whiteboard then a smart board.  Influencing the lives of an unknown number of students and peers.Listening, teaching, mentoring, loving and standing up for what was right in the classroom when few wanted to lead.

These hands. They have held my mother for 44 years in marriage.  They have removed mice and birds. They have shoveled snow and mulch, planted flowers and grown tomatoes. They have held her through sickness, loss, and pain.  These hands have been a partner to her hands for my entire life.

These hands. This pair has clapped in applause and approval. They have shaken hands with others in deals, condolences, and celebrations. They have paid tribute to fallen men and women and sacrificed for a time as a veteran. These hands have always loved being a patriot and always respected our flag.

These hands have turned pages of books and magazines, and have loaded bait and bullets. They have been cut, scraped and smashed. These hands have spent their entire life strong and brave, holding up family and friends, mentoring peers, loving strangers and being an example.

These hands belong to my daddy. They are the most beautiful pair of hands I have ever held. They have been a gift to many, a force to behold. I miss them fiercely today, as every day. I am sure they are perfect now, but it doesn’t make me miss them any less. If these hands could tell their story, what a tale it would be.