hands down, my favorite…

It was a random idea, but I have to tell you…it’s been my favorite blog subject so far. Sprinkled over the past few days, wonderfully happy pictures have been coming in on my phone and computer. It has been a beautiful Valentine gift to me to peek into your lives and be given permission to witness such an intimate act. I am deeply grateful.

I have been moved by the different colors…
the various ages…
the unique relationships.
The obvious thread of consistency that is woven throughout each picture is the depth of love they each represent.

The stories that these hands personify are deep. Some stories are mere months old – just beginning. Their skin, smooth with inexperience. Other stories are chapters and chapters long – some happy, some trying tales. Our hands are exposed to the elements. They endure hard work and relish in being spoiled and gently touched. Our hearts are protected by cells, muscle, lifeblood and skin. But our hands…our hands tell the many stories that we tuck away in our hearts to remember and hold dear; some stories to hopefully grow from and then wiser, to tuck away and forget. The sacredly exclusive stories are in the wrinkles and the spots and the folds of our hands. Our life experiences, exposed to the microscope of the seeing eye, if one will look closely enough. Our hands, all desperately needing the small gesture of a loved one’s passing squeeze. The sheer magnitude of that uncomplicated gesture is surprising.

There is just something about a touch, isn’t there? That simple reminder to your spouse, child, friend, lover – that you are nearby and that you want them to know that you truly see them…that you love them so much you must reach out and physically, if even momentarily, connect.

Seldom are words spoken when someone takes your hand.

Yet the instantaneous feeling floods and warms your soul…


7 thoughts on “hands down, my favorite…

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