There is something about seeing my mum’s hands which brings me great joy. My mum has working hands; hands that worked in laundry rooms and hospitals full-time from age 14, hands which cared for younger siblings aplenty while putting herself through University, hands that have worked in the home and full-time outside of it (apart from one three-month break when I was born) for over 50 years. My mum looks at her hands and sees signs of aging, she thinks there is nothing nice about her hands or her skin and often jokes about cosmetic surgery. Yet all I see when I look at those hands is a window into her soul words cannot give; a physical reminder of the beauty that hides inside.
Life has never been easy for my mum and despite the hopes I have and prayers I’ve said, it may never be. It is something which I have begun to accept and embrace - learn from and see joy in.
I know she may never read this, in fact of that I am certain. But today I am thankful for her and for her hands, a physical reminder of who she is and the strength and character which, while hidden, define her!
Your post reminded me of a beautiful song by Mercedes Sosa: Las manos de mi madre parecen pajaros en el aire – the hands of my mother resemble birds in the sky.
And of course of my own mothers hands.
Thank you for the grateful thoughts it brought to my mind.
Benca – I’ll have to try to listen to that song, thank you for mentioning it!
Beautiful post–such a nice tribute to your mother.
Thanks Nichole!
I think the best compliment I ever had was when I was told I have the same hands as my mum
Mother hands are so so healing.
I know it must be so hard to accept it may never be, but us girls have kittie babies
Focus on the freedom it brings, how it will allow you to be available to help others in need.
Compact – I didn’t mean that I won’t be a mum, more that I have to accept the mum she is. Hope that makes sense!
Oh I am so sorry I misunderstood what you were referring to
I absolutely loved this post. I feel the same way about my mother’s hands. They are thick and knarled from years of cleaning kill floors in cattle packing houses. She raised my sister and I all on her own and did most the cooking and cleaning. She has literally given all of her physical capabilities away to the survival of her family. Your mother has done the same. They are a true testament of strength. I want to call my mother right now. Thank you for this post.
Oh Jean that’s a lovely image. I never thought anyone else thought about their mum’s hands!
How beautiful that you truly appreciate your mom. Blessings to you.
Thanks Connie!
oh, frugal trenches, this was a beautiful post. blessings to you and your ma! xx
Thanks :0)
Such a beautiful perspective, i adore the detail and thought in this post and it proves that cosmetic surgery really shouldn’t be about making yourself look younger when all you are and have been is in your lines, wrinkles, hands and so on
ooh that’s lovely Ms Thrift. It was a post where I hoped I didn’t share too much yet shared enough!
Yet again one of your posts has me in tears. You have such craft in your writing, it just leaves me speechless!!
Thanks!
Thank you – your mum’s hands remind me of my mum’s! Hers were working woman’s hands as she worked for a living as well. As you know she’s no longer with me, but never far from my thoughts
Judy xx
I’m glad it brought back special memories Judy. Hugs!
What a beautiful woman your mom must be, inside and out.
That she is, struggles and all!
What a great post! Seriously, so moving and well written.
I wish she did have a chance to read it.
Me too Katie. She does know about this site!
Wonderful post, FT. It made think of how lucky I am and that I really have it easy. I kind of wish your mum could know about this… although I am sure you have already expressed your appreciation for her and her hard work many times before!
Thanks FT!
This was beautiful. One of the things I most vividly remember about my Poppa were his hands–thin and rough like sand paper and covered in wispy, wiry hairs w/ dark age spots. I’ll never forget the moments of holding in hand in church or just sitting next to each other at a family event. Your mother’s hands and your love for them will stay with you forever.
That’s a lovely memory! And most definitely my mum’s hands will always be with me!
Oh, what a wonderful photograph! I wish I had photos of my parents’ hands. But I do in my heart…I can see them clearly.
Hands are so full of personality and power, tenderness and cruelty. I’ve always loved Rodin’s hand pieces.
As for the aging of hands and skin…toward the end of my mother’s life, we spent a lot of time in the car, or sitting side by side in doctors’ offices. She told me countless times that I had lovely skin, and asked what kind of skin care I used. She asked so often, that it started getting under my skin (pardon the pun). I wish just once that I had responded, ‘Thank you, I got it from my mother.’
I wish that for you too Kathleen! OOohh (((Hugs)))
Wonderful! both your mother and your post.
I hope my daughter appreciates and loves me half as much as you do your mum.
I’m sure she will Angela!
I read a mix of joy and sorrow here. A lovely tribute using beautiful words.
Very much a mix!
I loved this post. One of your best.
Thanks Fitzy!
My mother’s hands created art. I have the art but not my mother. Her hands were delicate but wrinkled and sun-spotted and her nails had ridges. I envy you your mother. I wish I had taken a picture of my mother’s hands.
(((hugs)))) I wish that for you to!
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A mother’s hands are some of the most beautiful things in the world. Thank you for sharing the hands of your mom. xx
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I have always loved workworn hands. They show a full life and I respect that.