Happy Mother's Day

Those Hands

Oh, to feel those hands again...

Those hands that tenderly held me.

Beautiful hands.

Hands that assuredly led me off to school, even though her heart was aching.

Those hands that hugged me and held me when I came home.

Guiding hands.

Hands that grasped the streetcar rail on her way to work.

Struggling hands.

Happy hands that sent the kitchen into a sensory-stimulating sensation.

Happy hands that trimmed the tree and made every Christmas magical.

Hands that pulled up the warm blankets over me at bedtime, making me safe.

Quiet, beautiful hands.

Those hands that mashed, chopped and cooked a remedy for all ills.

Hands that crocheted stitches like a machine; each falling in line perfectly with the others.

Busy hands.

Hands that prayed I would choose the right friends.

Hands that waited for me to come home from a date.

Worried hands.

Hands that let go of me, on my wedding day, accepting my new love into her life.

Hands that again hugged me when I needed it.

Understanding hands.

Hands that held my children like they were her own.

Hands that played with them, laughed with them, taught them, and often carried them to bed.

Gentle hands.

And all too soon, aging hands that laid on mine for support.

Crippled hands that reached to me.

Loving hands.

Hands that held mine until life was gone from them.

Hands that held me, like no others.

Kind hands.

Oh, to feel those hands again...

Those beautiful hands.

by me