Hands

hands that held me the first time
handed me my life
hands changed my diapers
held my hands when I learned to walk
comforted me when I was hurt
put on band-aids when I fell off my bike
lit my birthday candles
propped a book up to read to a willing kid
gave me away when it was time
held me close when I mourned a marriage
helped me hang a drapery track
after handing me a down payment

hands that held glorious grandchildren
as lovingly as various dogs, cats and pets
or handled a trowel held as respectfully as a shovel

hands that placed a pencil in a pocket protector
as expertly as a hammer in its place
a baster handled as carefully as yeast
a BBQ as well as a sherry glass
hands that made lists
created plans left on his laden workbench
hands chopped wood
created, repaired, made working again
hands that meticulously organized his life
but did not communicate his thoughts

beautiful hands
holding tight to all he could remember
as he began to forget who he was
or what his life was like
the joy he handed us all
the folks he helped up and out
the goodness he created with his loving hands
his loved ones both two- and four-legged
his cottage and home
all forgotten
some who forgot him

his hands then slammed the table
when no longer able use his fork
when neither body nor brain as nimble
when chair and bed were all he could stand
hands gripped a tea mug
as desperately as his wheelchair
trying to manage drug-induced tremours
when brain and hands lost their connection
hands railed against the dying of the light
hands in which he placed his head
when the dementia and debilitation were too much for him

my hands held his
I washed his face and hands
when food did not make it to his mouth
my hand soothed his brow
my hands fixed his broken finger nail
catching on the blanket in aggravation
such gratitude for a simple act
keeping a perpetually cold man warm

the tables turned
I could give back what I had received
my only regret
that my mother never allowed me to do the same for her
that last night I held his hand
as long as I could
'till sleep called me
his hands motionless in his coma

my hands now grasp a grandchild
they have handed the reigns to me
I now hold the family in my hands
memories held now in my heart
rituals, routines, values and traditions are mine
I only hope my hands are up to the task
do unto others
as loving hands have held fast to you

his hands now at rest
my hands over my heart
he who dies with the most tools wins
Dad won hands down
too many tools to name
too late for you to tell me
too late for me to hold your hand
I nod in love and honour
I have to hand it to you
your love was more than I could have prayed for
I am so glad I was chosen
held so lovingly by your huge heart