My mother's hands

Recently, I've become more observant of my hands. About two months ago, I decided I was going to work on not biting my fingernails, which has been a life long habit of mine. In all my 41 years, I've never gone and had a manicure, because I haven't ever had nails to manicure! So, I painted my fingernails in an effort to dissuade myself from biting them, and guess what? It has worked! I have been successful in getting them to grow, and I haven't bitten any of the ten! Yeah, proud Gretchen moment!

And then this past week, I was outside with the boys, and I was trying to help McKay to move the lawnmower wheels up, as the grass is a jungle with all the recent rain we've had and it kept clogging on the level it was at. So, I was being impatient and not waiting for the Chief to get home, and suddenly the lever ripped off and ripped open my finger. Man, it hurt! And it bled! Scared the boys somewhat. They are not used to mom being the one bleeding! But my finger seemed to cause a great deal of pain, and therefore had my attention. And as I was noticing my hands, I started to realize that the older I get, the more that my hands look like my mother's hands. They are starting to get a little "veiny" but they remain clear of any other age spots. My hands also are strong, and able to do so many things. As a child, I would watch as my mom's hands would roll out dozens of cookies. And as they would brush out my sisters' hair. I would watch as my mom's hands would wash the dishes, and push the grocery cart, and hand my hand.

A woman's hands are so strong. They are busy, and active, soft and tender. I hope my hands offer the comfort and the joy that I have always watched my mother give with her hands.

Happy Mother's Day to the best mother I could ever have asked for!