Chris is worried that I posted this picture of my hand.
He commented it wasn't a very flattering picture of my hand.
He is right, but I told him, "I'm keepin' it real on my blog."
My sister recently told me how nice my nails looked on my previous post's picture of my hand.
That was my hand from 11 years ago from the night I became engaged.
My hands don't look like that much anymore.
If I was doing less dishes and overall housework, they might look young again.
My secret wish is to have a manicure every week.
My own mother wrote me a beautiful letter, years ago, about her own hands.
This is one of the many things her letter told me,
"I love my worn out looking hands, scarred, and showing hints of wrinkles
-simply because, they've been good to me,
and have served me well and hopefully they've been busy doing the same for many others.
Of all the adventures that my hands have been involved in,
none has brought me greater joy than that of being a wife and mother."Her great letter continues with all the many wonderful things she did with her hands for me as my mother. Leading me to the first day of school, clapping at recitals, sewing, cooking, making family & home traditions, driving me to and from all kinds of things, nursing my wounds, making to-do lists, and endless chore charts, etc, etc.
In a small way this photo of my hand is a tribute to my own mother and to my family now.
These are my unmanicured, rather pale, and even a little scary, dry, wrinkled looking hands.
3 comments:
You made me cry!! It must be in the genes because I find myself looking at my own "mother hands" too. I heard once that if you think of someone you love, you can always picture their hands. Try it! It's true!
What a great tribute to your Mom--and to all Moms!!!
I like that perspective. When we got married our photographer took a picture of just our hands. when he saw Weston's he said wow I can tell those are working hands. It's true Weston is the hardest worker I know. I guess you can tell a lot by hands. Oh no, my fingers are short and fat. Hope that doesn't describe me.
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