My Hands – My Children – My Heart

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Late last week I was helping my two sons clean some of the rooms in the home they recently purchased to get it ready for the big move-in day. As I scrubbed, vacuumed, and dusted I began to notice my hands. Age spots are beginning to appear, and I am in need of a manicure but as I gazed at my hands, I began to think about all the wonderful experiences my hands have provided…my now fondest memories…the everyday normal things that often get overlooked ~ of my children.

I remember how my hands cradled their fragile bodies, and my fingers gently stroked their soft cheeks as I held them close to my heart the very first moment we met. 

My hands wiped their tears, tucked in blankets, and made lunches. They held kite strings, picked up countless Lego’s, bought Hello Kitty products, and sewed on scout patches.

They turned the pages of nightly bedtime stories, taught bedtime prayers and played good brother/ bad brother puppets to help them end their day laughing.

My three children and some grandchildren.

These hands held on tightly while crossing the street or offering comfort. They clapped with joy at first steps, band performances, little league games, swim meets and academic achievements ~ both large and small.

They combed and braided hair, folded laundry, and buttoned shirts. They have touched shoulders, waved in greeting, and pushed in playful gestures.

They tickled tummies, rubbed backs and tied bows. They pushed swings on the playground and held on tightly around their tiny waist as we slid tandem down slides. These hands clasped tightly in prayer as I waited for them to return home after their first solo driving experience, or a late night out.

These hands waved goodbye and gently wiped the tears off my own face as each one of my children left to find their way in this world… as I bravely smiled.

These hands close daily as I give thanks and praise to God for choosing me to be their mother. Even though my children are grown up and living their own lives these hands still serve them. I don’t get to see my children as often as I used to, but they definitely know these hands are always here for them.

“For all the things my hands have held the best by far is you” 

– Andrew McMahon, Lyrics from Cecilia and the Satellite

30 thoughts on “My Hands – My Children – My Heart”

  1. My hands too are getting older, along with the rest of me. 🙂 When I look at them I’m reminded of my Grandma’s hands. Strong, capable, work-worn hands which were never still except when she was praying. And it reminds me of the legacy she left. Thank you for your beautiful post, I’m going to be thinking of Grandma all day now.

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  3. I’ve noticed my hands are getting older too – but I’ve also come to realize how blessed we are to have functional limbs, hands, eyes, etc because when something doesn’t work as well as it used to, we appreciate what we have even more.

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    • I absolutely agree with you! I had a first-time bout with sciatica in my right leg a month ago and the limitations it caused was frustrating. It made me once again appreciate the blessing of good health. I give thanks every day for functional body parts as well as the simplest task such as dressing myself or driving myself anywhere and not depend on someone else. Have a good weekend!

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  6. What a wonderful post. I have never really “liked” my hands (one more thing to criticize…sigh) but, oh my, all the joys that they have allowed me and, as I consider your thoughts, how much life they allowed me to experience and enjoy! Thanks for a change in my thinking this morning! Have a wonderful weekend!!

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