My Hands

A grandpa and a grandma sat in the balcony and both stared across the settlements far into the Straits. If you are quick to do your next thing, you would probably not notice them since they sat still and only make slight movements once in a while.  They took a concentrated look at their hands in between and for quite a while theirs eyes were stuck to their hands in deep thoughts. They would think of the past.

When they looked up, and stared at the furthest end of the water in the Straits, the sun has touched the horizon. It was beautiful as the golden lights dances with the waves.

It was complete tranquility.

When their last grandchildren sat beside them, they seemed unaware but they did. They did not signal him of their awareness and he began to wonder if they are okay. The kid wanted to call papa and mama, yet he did not disturb them, knowing that his grandparent is in deep thought. Instead of opening his mouth, the kid kept silent and put his right hand on his grandpa’s palm and his left hand on his grandma’s palm. The old man and the old woman looked up and gave the kid a sweet smile. The kid smile wider than them with dimple on both cheeks.
The grandpa asked the kid, “Have you look at your hands ?” “Your hands serve you well through the years. My hands though wrinkled and weak have helped me to reach out, to grab and embrace life. My hands caught my fall when I was toddler. They put food in my mouth, tied my school shoes, and wiped my tears when my father passed away.”

“They have been dirty and cleaned, they have held my children and grandchildren, combed my hairs, washed and cleaned my body during bath. As a child, my mother taught me how to fold them in prayer.”
“And to these day when not much of anything else of me works real well with these hands, they still hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer. These hands leave marks of my journey through life. Love them. Repay their kindness with light moisturing lotion of the Aloe cool and fresh of Vaseline.
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