Old hands, shaky, frail, tremulous. A book tattered and stained by the passing of the years. Just like an old tree trunk with many knots and carvings, old gnarled hands hold a special beauty. They tell a tale of struggles, hard work and sacrifices. Gone are the softness and luster replaced now by brittle, freckled skin, and I wonder... are these freckles pages of that tale? Do they represent yesteryear's sunny summer days? Were they caused while pottering round the garden too busy to remember to wear gloves?
Old hands once so useful now holding a flower. Both so fragile! Past and present together on the road to become the future... a memory...
When I grow older and my hands become shaky and frail, I truly hope that each and every freckle and scar would be there to show I did not mind doing things myself and I did not mind helping others. I want my hands to be an open book for all to see I lived my life to the fullest.
(This post is dedicated in loving memory to both, my father and grandmother. Their useful hands will always have a special place in my heart)
Photo by Bing Image
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Beautiful post Alina!
ReplyDeleteTruly beautifulxxxxxxxxx
ReplyDeleteI remember my mother's hands oil painting and my father's holding me to evoid I falling down...
ReplyDeleteHands say a lot about people...
Beautiful text, wonderful feeling ! XX
Gorgeous heartfelt post Alina..POWERFUL!! beautiful!
ReplyDeleteKiki~
This is such a wonderful post Alina. It is sad that society in general doesn't appreciate the scars, spots and wrinkles earned through life. We try to hide them, get rid of them and keep ourselves looking young. We truly should be honoured and thankful that we lived long enough to earn them!
ReplyDeleteSuch a beautiful dedication.
Have a happy day Alina!
xo Catherine
This is such a beautiful post, Alina! My grandmother had hands that were completely bent and gnarled by arthritis. If she held her hands out horizontally, her fingers would point down. She always used to joke that she had the dickens of a time giving directions. They were very particular hands. She was Danish and everything was always just so.
ReplyDeleteI knew this post was coming and, almost, just said it was beautiful. I didn't think of my grandma until just now. Thanks for reminding me. she's the one that I want to emulate the most - I think that I have a healthy dose of her genes! =]
Love, Katy xo
What an amazing photo and beautiful post. Those hands tell me that this is a person who really lived.
ReplyDeleteMary
I love the music and your post but have no sentiment whatsoever about my arthritic, scrawny, bespotted hands - just glad they can keep doing what I love.
ReplyDeletemy father had the most beautiful hands, i always thought of them as square, not sure why. hands are expressive, they talk. Sometimes words aren't required as long as we have hands...... thank you Alina. Ciao
ReplyDeleteSo beautifully heart-warming, Alina - your writing stirs my soul x
ReplyDeleteHELLO ALINA,..YOUR POST HANDS TOUCH MY HEART AND MY SOUL,I HAVE ARTHITIS MY SEF AND,I LOVE TO GARDEN .I GIVE GOD THANKS FOR THE USE OF MY HANDS.I LOVE YOUR MUSIC AND YOUR DARLING BLOG,THANK YOU FOR VISITING MY BLOG....BLESSINGS...SANDRA
ReplyDeleteThis post really touched me, Alina, and it is such a lovely tribute to your loved ones. xx
ReplyDelete