It's All in the Hands

I recently received a gift from my daughter, as it turned out, on her 21st birthday. It was a framed collage of her hands fingerspelling our last name, with a beautiful Texas sky as the backdrop. I cried when I saw it. Later she asked me if I really liked it and I explained that I liked it on so many levels. I taught her to fingerspell many years ago while I was studying sign language for fun. Since then, she has gone on to study it in high school and college and anticipates a career in interpreting. She frequently shares with me photos she takes of skies, sunsets and sunrises, so that was touching also. But mostly it moved me because of the fact that it was her hands which I consider to be precious. When your child is born, you hold their tiny hands in yours and remark at the delicacy and wonder of their perfect little fingers. When I saw the photos, I realized at that moment that the feeling never goes away. I still feel love when I see her hands, as well as those of my other daughter. I think they are precious still. And I see in them, my mother's hands along with mine. In those hands and fingers are generations of love, caring and wisdom that can only be passed from mother to daughter to granddaughter. I suppose the feeling of loving your child's hands will never fade. At least I hope not.