My Hands
I realized something looking at my wedding ring on my finger. I have really pretty hands. I really like my hands. That is saying a lot considering that I have been called man-hands and was told by a boy I liked, on a date, that my hands were rough when he held mine... embarrassing!!! I remember looking at my mom's hands when I was a little girl. Admiring her wedding ring, the long almond shape of her fingernails. I always loved her hands. They were pretty. They were really good tickling my back during a bedtime song. They served me on a daily basis. I remember noticing an age spot on her had for the first time, seeing the blistered after a church service project, wet with dish-water or better bathing a baby, or just holding mine during sacrament meeting at church. I love my mom's hands.
I love my hands. They aren't girly, that is for sure. They are beautiful and they serve my family in all the same ways. They massage Steve, wipe away a tear, put up piggies and messy buns on little girl's heads of hair, hold a sick child, tickle backs nightly, these hands record the stories of life.
Like tonight when Manning and I stood outside and admired the moon rising over Sunrise Mountain. It looked amazing through the clouds. Those hands pointed out and waved at all the helicopters coming over the same mountain on their way back from the Grand Canyon tours, headed back to the Strip. He said, "hi" (sounded more like "hhhaaa") to every single one. He has the cutest little hands and an adorable wave. He just turns his hand back and forth at the wrist. SOOOO cute! Then they got out the telescope and these hands fumbled with the poor thing until we "stumbled" across the moon in the view finder and we looked a little closer at some of her beautiful face. These hands ignited a passion for the skies in Byron's heart... I can tell. Such a beautiful evening. Josie and Taryn held my hands while we danced around for a minute when I turned some music on.
I love my hands. I have the most beautiful and amazing hands!
I love my hands. They aren't girly, that is for sure. They are beautiful and they serve my family in all the same ways. They massage Steve, wipe away a tear, put up piggies and messy buns on little girl's heads of hair, hold a sick child, tickle backs nightly, these hands record the stories of life.
Like tonight when Manning and I stood outside and admired the moon rising over Sunrise Mountain. It looked amazing through the clouds. Those hands pointed out and waved at all the helicopters coming over the same mountain on their way back from the Grand Canyon tours, headed back to the Strip. He said, "hi" (sounded more like "hhhaaa") to every single one. He has the cutest little hands and an adorable wave. He just turns his hand back and forth at the wrist. SOOOO cute! Then they got out the telescope and these hands fumbled with the poor thing until we "stumbled" across the moon in the view finder and we looked a little closer at some of her beautiful face. These hands ignited a passion for the skies in Byron's heart... I can tell. Such a beautiful evening. Josie and Taryn held my hands while we danced around for a minute when I turned some music on.
I love my hands. I have the most beautiful and amazing hands!