Hands

Been thinking about the life etched in my hands. The marks and the knocks and the creases.

I think about holding my parents and my grandparents hands. And I think about how I feel about those hands - etched to a much greater degree than mine.

And I wonder what the weeWeir will make of her Dad's hands when she is older. I hope she makes time to think about the hands that clothed her, fed her, cleaned her, taught her, nurtured her, disciplined her.

I hope I keep getting to enjoy her enjoying my hands.