I have an expanded version of an essay I did a while back when I realized I had my grandmothers' hands. It is now online at HaveHeart Magazine, a new online magazine.
My Grandmother’s Hands
"I’m not sure when it happened, but I looked at my hands one day and realized they weren’t my own anymore, they were my grandmother’s. When I was younger my hands were smooth and unscarred. They would always be my hands, me, and no one else’s. Then I started noticing other things, the fine lines on my lips, the little wrinkles around my eyes. When did that happen? When you are young, everyone is old and you never imagine you will also be old someday. So waking up to my grandmother’s hands was a bit of a shock. I never noticed I was getting old. Doesn’t help when your brain keeps insisting you are still in your 20s!
What happened?"
My Grandmother’s Hands
"I’m not sure when it happened, but I looked at my hands one day and realized they weren’t my own anymore, they were my grandmother’s. When I was younger my hands were smooth and unscarred. They would always be my hands, me, and no one else’s. Then I started noticing other things, the fine lines on my lips, the little wrinkles around my eyes. When did that happen? When you are young, everyone is old and you never imagine you will also be old someday. So waking up to my grandmother’s hands was a bit of a shock. I never noticed I was getting old. Doesn’t help when your brain keeps insisting you are still in your 20s!
What happened?"
Comments