Here we are again. Friday is a beautiful word, isn’t it??
This is the day a few hundred of us brave souls bare our hearts and write unedited, unhindered, unburdened. We open up our hearts, and let our hands and fingers fly on our keyboards. (And actually, the word HANDS is the prompt this week!) No thought to spelling, grammar, punctuation, and any other writing etiquette we normally care about. It’s one of my favorite parts of my week.
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(Who’s that cute little blonde girl?? Here I am with my mother, and three brothers. Notice my mother’s beautiful hands–and her long fingers!)
I glance down at them numerous times in a day as I write. As I do all I do in a day.
And when I see these hands of mine, I’d about believe they belong to my mom, not to me.
God has blessed me with my mother’s hands.
Skinny, with wrists as such. Long fingers. Veins prominent on top. They aren’t as young-looking as they used to be, but are accustomed to work. Just like hers.
I held her hands for years. Even as a teenager, I was never embarrassed to hold them. I knew them well, and experienced the love she extended through them daily.
The last time I held hers in mine, I looked into her eyes and told her it was okay to rest, to close her eyes. I told her it was okay go home. It was okay to let go of my hands and take Jesus’. Hours later she departed from this earth, and went home to be with Jesus.
So these hands of mine? I’m glad they remind me of my beautiful mother. I’m glad I sometimes take a double-take, thinking they should be hers.
And the coolest thing? My son has her hands too.
Even though he doesn’t care for his long fingers, and he complains every now and then how skinny his hands are, I’ll continue to remind him what a blessing it is to have hands like Grandma’s.
You bless me by being here today. If you’re up for it, leave a comment below just to say hi or to share something about the word HANDS.
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Oh these words… they have brought me tears. What a lovely picture of you and your mother and siblings! I too have my mother’s hands and for some unknown reason I am reminded of my Grandma’s hands (paternal grandma)… my momma is still here but Grandma has passed… and I remember holding her hand and kissing that delicate skin goodbye.
Great vivid picture, thank you so much for sharing!!
Hi Brandi! I haven’t been over to your place for some time. Will venture over there today. Thank you for blessing me with your comments and your memories of your Grandma. Such precious and priceless memories we have of those who have gone before us. And of their hands! May God bless you as you continue to shine for Him!
Visiting from FmF. I have my mom’s hands too. Square with short fingers. Not so beautiful as your mom’s but I like my hands. Have a great weekend.
Hi Patricia! I’m glad you like your hands! Especially if their like your mom’s. That’s pretty special! Thank you for stopping by from FMF today. It’s a gift to meet wonderful new friends from there. Have a great weekend too!
A beautiful story of love from a simple one word prompt. It reminded me of my Grandma Rita; I used to love painting her nails, they reminded me of turtle shells in shape. Those hands prepared many Italian meals for us, but even more special was how she would fold them in prayer. Thank you for sharing sweet memories.
Doris, your Grandma Rita must have been someone pretty special. Yes! I didn’t even think about how Mom would fold her hands in prayer! Thank you for giving me that picture today. What a gift. Thank you for sharing a small snippet of your story here today. You always bless me! Hugs!
Precious & sweet memories! It always amazes me how a one word prompt can bring back such vivid memories. Glad to have stopped in from FMF. Blessings!
Hi Joanne! I enjoy “meeting” new friends through FMF! Thank you for stopping over. It amazes me too how one word can trigger so many memories. Glad we can share them with each other. Have a beautiful day!
Julie, I love this post because I also have my mother’s hands. And I also notice often and smile because it’s like wearing my mom, in a way. I look at the lines and wrinkles that are forming and remember hers looking the same. I often think I don’t like my hands because they are big and my fingers are fat, but they are mine and they look like hers and I’m glad they are and they do. Always appreciate your words, Julie! Blessings this weekend…xoxo, mb
I agree, Meredith. It’s like wearing my mom. I’m glad they remind you of your mom. It’s hard some days, isn’t? Not having our moms around to love and to love on us? I’m thankful God reminds us of His love through memories and even through our hands. I appreciate you stopping by today. Hugs to you!
I really liked this post. What a sweet way to remember your mother.
Thank you, Claresa. It amazes me how one word can trigger all sorts of memories! Blessings to you this day!