Hands

Posted by Jennifer B. | May 7, 2007 | 3 Comments

I have often heard the phrase, “I know it like the back of my hand.” What does that mean, really? How well do you know the back of your hand? Can you picture it in your mind? Unlike some, I apparently do not know the back of my hand very well. While looking over these lovely appendages recently, I noticed spots. “Hey! Whose hands are these? My hands don’t have age spots! And how come they look. . .wrinkly and that vein is kind of popping out?” I’m sure it didn’t happen suddenly; my hands have been gradually aging and I just didn’t realize it. Maybe the changes escaped me because I’m so busy using my hands, that I don’t really take time to sit and gaze at them. Between chopping vegetables for dinner, loading laundry into the wash, and typing at the computer, I haven’t stopped to notice the changes in the hands that serve me so well. Fortunately, the spots, wrinkles, and bulging veins (ew–I can barely write it) haven’t kept me from being useful.

So I wonder, “What do my hands say about me?” (Certainly they say that I’m not twenty anymore.) Can you tell very much about a person by looking at their hands? Probably not–unless the hands are moving. Can you tell very much about a person by the way they use their hands? I think so. Read Melissa Young’s essay, “Hands” and tell me what you think. What parts do you enjoy and what thoughts stand out to you? Let’s talk about it.

Category: Liken the Journal

Comments

3 Responses to “Hands”

Emily M.
May 7th, 2007 @ 1:07 pm

I loved Melissa’s essay. It reminds me of a song my mother-in-law wrote called “Let these hands,” which placed in the Church music contest a few years ago. It’s a prayer song: let these hands, a gift from Thee, do good works. Her own hands were calloused, fingertips scarred from a lifetime of testing her blood sugar eight times a day. But her fingers still remembered the songs she had practiced.
Shari
May 7th, 2007 @ 3:25 pm

I too look down at my hands and see my mother’s sometimes…especially the fleshy part between my wrist and thumb, and the back of my hand…it is wide like hers. I really liked the part of the essay where she was wishing she could sit and watch the boy draw so that she could learn from him. But then realized that it came from within…just like music for her. It is so true that you can indeed learn from someone, but you can’t capture their passion or talent…nor can it be given or taught to you. I believe we all have talents and passion for things and probably sometimes wonder “why this?” or “why that?” but it simply just is. It is who we are, and part of the fun and adventure of life is discovering who we are.
brooke
May 8th, 2007 @ 10:19 pm

my hands are exactly my mother’s. that’s what always strikes me.

well that, and the fact that i need to use more lotion! (my knuckles look forever dry!)

when i had my first daughter, and when she was still a baby, a friend told me she had my exact hands. so i thought that was interesting, and i loved the idea of my daughter having something of me that was so my mom.

i hope my hands give the service my mom did– i hope they bless and heal through the things that they make, the things they’re capable of creating. i hope my daughter’s do too…