Hands Up!

When I was a little girl (about 10'ish) I was enthralled with hands. A silly thing to "love" but I remember distinctly watching a hand lotion commercial on television and how the female model's hands were just beautiful...perfect...and I loved the way she held them in just the right pose. When I learned that there were actually hand models I just knew that I had what it took. I had practiced my hand pose, had watched the hands of models on game shows.. and I always thought my hands were just as pretty as those on tv. Yes, I wanted to be a hand model!

35 + years later.....I was getting ready for bed last night. As I washed my hands and started to apply lotion to my hands (my nightly ritual), I was caught off guard by the look of MY hands. I stared at them in disbelief. Really looked at them. Oh...my...I have old hands! When did that happen? When and how did my hands become mapped with pronounce blue lines and wrinkles? I was just flabergasted as I held them up to the mirror - just to double check that the hands were actually mine - how have I not noticed it before? Did it just happen overnight or have I been oblivious to the subtle changes all along? I lotioned them up really well in hopes that I could turn back the clock and bring back the hands I remember..if only in my mind.

I went to bed still thinking about my discovery.  Just how did this happen? Then, as if watching a movie, I was taken back to when I used them to play in the dirt, dress Barbies, steadily play Operation and Pickup Sticks, did cartwheels in the front yard. I remembered all of the music I played with them in the junior high band and the flags I twirled back then. I thought about how they held my children, the many diapers those hands changed...bottles I prepared and the tiny hands I've held in mine. I thought about how I've used these old-looking hands to cook meals for my family...they were my source of income for 8 years and a deaf minstry tool for an additonal 4. My hands have held the hands of my parents, my husband, my children, my friends and family. I've used them to prepare food and cakes for gatherings, events and casual family dinners, to crochet blankets, and to write many words. They've been sore, tired and sometimes injured from the wear and tear. Lying in my bed last night I realized that they have served me in so many ways that my little 10 year old self never ever imagined.

The memories guided me to understand how they became old.
My hands have begun to age.
My hands have changed, matured, and grown stronger by experience.
They have so many stories to tell....
many more life yet to live.
So much aging left to do.