These Hands
My hands are the most useful tools I have. They have been with me all my life.
These two hands I’ve been blessed with have seen me through this journey so far and hopefully, there’s so much more to come.
They have performed so many ordinary tasks and also done some very interesting things.
These hands have cooked tens of thousands of meals for my family, made beds, washed dishes, and folded laundry.
These hands built the little wooden stool my kids and grandkids used at my house to reach the bathroom sink.
These hands have raked a ton of leaves, picked a ton of flowers, spread a ton of gravel, and pulled a ton of weeds.
They’ve greased the tractor, refinished furniture, helped build fences, and even a barn.
These hands have removed and replaced a hundred drain plugs while changing oil in one thing or another.
These hands have turned wrenches, steered rescue boats, cut down trees, and changed ostomy bags.
These hands have planted a garden and made sauce from the harvest.
These hands have built countless fires in this fireplace and banked them at the end of the day.
They have strung beads, dressed wounds, and lotioned little bodies with SPF 60.
Once, they made a wedding dress for a friend who was out of work.
These hands held my mother’s hand tightly when I was very young and again when she was very old.
These hands have dialed a rotary phone, changed channels on a black and white TV set, made shadow puppets on the wall, and tied a million shoelaces.
These hands have taken me on thousands of journeys from Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird–the first book I remember reading on purpose–to Betsy Lerner’s The Forrest for the Trees–the most recent book I’ve read on purpose–just by turning pages.
These hands have wiped away many a tear.
These hands have cleaned turtle tanks and dispensed turtle antibiotics.
They have picked blueberries, chopped wood, climbed trees, and rescued baby birds.
They have done a high five, a standard hand shake, a salute, or a wave depending on the situation.
These hands have stuffed and basted turkeys and prepared Thanksgiving dinner for three to fifteen for the last thirty plus years.
These hands have been covered in poison oak, performed the Heimlich maneuver for real, and learned how to feed a child through a tube.
These hands rubbed lotion on my mom’s feet in her later years when I came home to visit.
These hands have shucked a mountain of corn and chipped fool’s gold out of a mountainside.
These hands have demoed (yes, demoed is really a word) a bathroom and hung wallpaper.
They helped pull a calf from his exhausted mother.
These hands have held babies while rocking them to sleep.
They have fixed the wash machine and countless boo-boos.
They have held strawberry daiquiris, tea cups, coffee mugs, solo cups, paper cups, and cups full of quarters at a casino.
These hands have held hands of cards, board game tokens, two dollar bills, and smooth beach stones from the great lakes.
They’ve opened car doors, pushed shopping carts, changed gears with a stick shift, and accelerated a motorcycle.
They’ve kneaded bread dough, rolled out pie crusts, and mixed many a meatloaf.
These hands have played a guitar and pecked at keys on both typewriter and keyboard. They still haven’t mastered typing without looking.
These hands have bathed, dressed, and blessed the foreheads of both children and parents alike at one time or another.
These hands scratched my dad’s feet when I was a child and trimmed his toenails when I was beyond middle age.
These hands have braided hair, french-braided hair, put hair in ponytails, pigtails, buns, and curlers. They have even cut hair in a pinch.
These hands have crocheted baby blankets, afghans, doilies, and made capes for the grandkids, and so much more.
These hands have folded in prayer more times than I can count.
Some days they’re good, some days they’re painful, other days they just don’t want to work right.
They’ve been cut, bruised, raised, hidden, dirty, clean, sanitized, smooth, wrinkled, caught up in machinery, and arthritic.
Used and abused.
These amazing hands.
~~~
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While reading this, I thought what a great idea it would be to make my own list when I am feeling down about myself. A list like this could bring anyone out of a funk. What a way to truly see the good we have done in our lifetime. I may just start my list tonight! Thanks for sharing your list with us.
Lou,
That’s cool. I was just thinking about how much our hands actually do in a lifetime. They’re versatile and amazing!
When you make your list, let us in on some of it. I was actually hoping to hear what other’s hands had done!
Love you…c ❤
Carol, this writing is just wonderful. I so enjoyed reading this. I have a picture in my bedroom holding my mama’s hand the day she passed away. I often look at that picture holding her severely deformed arthritic hand and think of the million things she did for me with those hands. Hands are amazing and you described your hands brilliantly. This is one of my favorite stories you have written. What a blessing to read!!! Thank you my friend. Happy Memorial Day weekend. Love you girl.
Susan,
It’s amazing to think about all that our mothers’ hands have done for us beginning with holding us when we’re brand new to the world. I think I need to put together a ‘hands’ list for my mom and dad. I think it would make me feel closer to them (and probably miss them more than I already do if that’s possible!). I’m glad you enjoyed this post. Cherish that picture… ❤
C…your hands strummed a guitar while your heart sang me to sleep. Your hands taught me to make a nice, nice, nice white sauce for creamed peas. Your hands also taught me how to make ham salad and coleslaw. I thank you and your hands for all you have done for me!
Oh, Grace! You’re so welcome. You were always my best audience! I thank your hands for teaching me to make potato pancakes and pirogi and for holding my hands when they really needed it. ❤
Here’s a sample of my list…
Over the years these hands have…
Built forts, drew pictures, made hand made gifts for family and friends.
Hung from the top of the swing set, blasted off imaginary rockets, pitched the ball for kick ball.
Made a “scrap” cake, kneaded bread dough, made thousands of meals.
Held my three new born babies in my arms. Filmed a baby being born. Cut the cord of my first grand child.
Did thousands of loads of laundry. Decorated paper lunch bags. held my kids hands waiting for the bus.
Cared for dogs, cats, geese, bunnies, and other assorted animals my children brought home.
Turned off the TV to have family time, lit candles for our holiday “candle light night”
Made the art that won me the coveted senior solo art exhibit
Very nice! Several times a day I think of something else I could add. It’s amazing to view your experiences through your hands.
I love the scrap cake!
Keep it going…
Love you…c ❤
my dad bought me a 2nd hand console sewing machine when we lived in Indianapolis about 1960. It served me well for years and years, until I sold it in about 1971 when I received a new, whiz bang portable, open arm Viking machine with many bells and whistles’ cams to make wonderful decorative stuff. The specific time I’m thinking of when these hands ran that console sewing machine …. I lived in a second floor apartment as a married woman with a young son who was about 8 or 9 months old – old enough to sit up by himself. I had sewing machine work to do, but son wanted to reach up through the console and fiddle with the innards. I gave him a needle and thread and a piece of scrap material to keep him occupied. And yes, I did demonstrate that the pointy end would hurt if he stuck himself with it – that sorta worked! When we lived there, I made curtains for the bedroom, more maternity tops, and painstakingly sewed Army patches on a uniform. It was quite a feat without having an ‘open arm’ machine!
Wow, that’s amazing! I’m very impressed! You’re right-that’s not an easy feat.
I chuckled when you said “that sorta worked!” I hope no one was injured!
🥰