Monday, April 9, 2012

HANDS (A-Z April Blog Challenge)

I remember them as being the most intimate moments between my parents.  Occasionally, mom would be sitting in the living room chair and dad would kneel in front of her.  Leaning forward, he would lay across her lap, his head resting on her upper thigh.  He was a big man and you could see his weight settle onto her form as his eyes closed.  Laying her hands on his back, she’d stroke in long, lazy circles.  You could see the tension flow out of him.  Time passed.  She wouldn’t stop until he stirred.  And then always, he’d lean over her, a light kiss and a “thanks Fayzie”.
As a child, you don’t think about the significance of touch.  We were a “touchy” family – hugs and kisses flowed freely.  As an adult, hugs and kisses are still wonderful, but there is something about laying hands on or the holding of hands that is the core of a physical connection for me.  It’s a place of refuge, of love, of friendship and guidance.   
As I started to write this post, so many of those "hands on" times in my life came back to me.  Rather than try to work them into some form of a cohesive story, which I just don’t believe is possible, I decided to list a few. 

Craig, the oldest and me,
the baby of the family.
I made myself stop at a baker’s dozen and here they are, in no particular order other than how they came to mind…
  • When I got one of my frequent headaches/migraines, Mom would place a cool washcloth over my eyes and lightly run her hands through my hair and over my scalp.  Her fingertips worked magic to ease the pain.     
  • When my oldest brother Craig was leaving for the service, we all went to the airport to see him off.  At that time you could actually go to the gate and wait for them to board.  Although my mom and dad were there and my other brothers and sisters, I selfishly held on and wouldn’t let anyone else hold his hand. Had he not come back to us, I probably would feel terribly guilty about that today.   
  • Abram and I held hands as we walked around his first PRIDE event ever.  It was one of the most intense parenting experiences I’ve ever felt.    
  • Having my dad place my hands in Steven’s when we reached the alter and then Steven placing the thin gold my wedding band on my finger.  29 years and counting and I’ve never taken it off. 
  • The first time after I joined our church as an adult and I shook the hands of those around me, sharing “Peace be with you” - “And also with you”
  • Holding my mother’s hand in the hospital bed as she lay dying, and then, just ten months later, holding my father’s as he passed as well. 
  • Steve’s loving and accepting arms around me as I shared awakening memories of the worst three years of my life.
  • Delivering Abram prematurely and then not touching him until he was four days old due to his being transferred to the Children’s neo-natal unit.  And oh, the joy when he was taken out of the isolette and laid in my arms.
  • Giving my mother in law, Ann, a manicure as she lay in the hospital bed in her living room under the care of hospice and family. 
  • Guiding my mom for the last three years of her life whenever I walked next to her because her right peripheral vision was gone due to her traumatic brain injury.
  • Countless hours and thousands of miles of riding in the car with Steven or Abram and holding their hand.
  • Abrams recurrent migraine headaches and rubbing my thumb at the indent of his temple to ease his pain and help him fall asleep. 
  • Reaching out in the middle of the night, and feeling calmed just by placing a hand on Steven.
 

One of my favorites, a Morgan hand-holding chain...


18 comments:

  1. I, too, love hands. There's something very intimate about hands and when someone chooses to hold your hand it's very soothing and special.

    Rhia from Five Minute Piece for Inspiration (around #800 on A to Z Challenge).

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    1. Thank you Rhia. Loved your humility post for today. Very inspiring and so true!

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  2. The image of giving your mother in law a manicure is deeply touching.

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    1. Thank you Sandra - she was a wonderful woman and treated me well. It was the most intimate moment we had.

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  3. Like your dad, Rudy distresses simply by my touch. Nice write, Amy.

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  4. Lovely post with some very emotional memories. Thanks for sharing.

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  5. Very touching post, figuratively and literally. Thanks for sharing such precious memories.

    Erin

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  6. This was a beautiful A-Z post! You're very right - hands are so intimate, in so many different ways.

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  7. This was a beautiful post. The power of the human touch is amazing. When my kinds gently rub my neck or play with my hair...I just stop. and melt...

    Thank you for sharing these beautiful and "touching" moments in your life. :)

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  8. Touching... and touching. Too deeply for words right now.

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  9. I recall the very first time Roomy took my hand in his. Remembering that moment still brings me a bit of a butterfly in the tummy moment. I recall rubbing my fussy babies (and grand babies) backs in small circles and feeling so close and so irreplaceable in those moments.
    My mom told me years ago, after my dad's death, that she most missed being touched in her everyday life.
    I make sure she is touched every time I am with her now. I never want her to feel untouchable. ♥

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    1. My dad passed ten months after my mom did. And he also shared with me that the "daily touch" was something he truly missed. I did the same with him as you do with your mom and I know it made a difference for him. Thanks for sharing this Jo.

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  10. Beautiful post. Something so intimate and loving about holding hands, whether it's with a lover, a child, or a good friend.

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  11. This is such a loving, warm, and fuzzy post. It made me smile reliving all your wonderful memories.


    Kathy
    http://gigglingtruckerswife.blogspot.com/

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  12. This is just lovely! I too have a thing for hands. I wrote once about my husband's hands. I wonder if I still have that piece.

    My mother-in-law had beautiful hands. Not in the traditional sense, for hers were large-knuckled with age and got to the point where they would no longer lie straight, but they held so much history. The babies she'd tended, the tears she'd dried, and the comfort she'd given. When she passed away, I stood at her casket and stayed a few extra moments, just to give thanks for all that her hands had given.

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    1. What a nice tribute to stop and remember all she'd done. And you should look up that piece about your husband's hands - I'd love to see it!

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  13. I think this post has reminded me what the power of touch does for us--so wonderful to read through your memories.

    One of my fondest--was when I was sick, my grandma would always rub my head too and give me a cold wash cloth. When I read you Mom did that--it brought back those very early childhood memories of my Grandma.

    Awesome post!! Cheers, Jenn
    http://www.wine-n-chat.com

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  14. This is beautiful, Amy. You are lucky to have such warm memories and to have been able to comfort your mom and your dad with your touch. My family was never really the "touchy" type (that German blood, I guess), and I've felt a little self-conscious and uncomfortable about touching people. I've gotten much better at it now; I can give hugs easily, and Tim and I hold hands all the time when we're walking. Science has established the therapeutic value of touching and being touched, even extending to animals--just petting a dog or cat has been shown to lower blood pressure and improve mood. I like your photos here, too!

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