Monday, August 12, 2019

A Mother's Hands

Every time I do certain things, like petting the cat or peeling vegetables, I see my mother's hands.  It is a strange feeling that I haven't really come to terms with yet.  Do I want to be like her or not?  Do I want to accept my age, probably not. Some how this whole "hand" thing
bothers me and I am not quite sure why.
Image result for free pictures of hands
Am I reminded of her last few years when those fingers were feeble and unable to do the things we all take for granted, like buttoning up her shirt?  Her hands fluttered because she wanted to do things that weren't as easy as they had once been.  Perhaps I am beginning to see that in myself and I don't much like it.

Her hands were weathered from years of hard physical work.  She lived without the things I take for granted today.  Washing clothes was an all day affair of heating water on a wood stove, washing things by hand, hanging it on the clothes line in good weather or bad.  It was carrying wood and water into the house and out again.  She gardened and canned everything, including venison and 100 chickens every year.  Those things were all boiled for hours on a wood stove in the scalding heat of summer to preserve them.

I remember those hands cracked and bleeding from being in water and then outdoors in the dead of winter.  She would put grease on them and wear gloves to bed at night to encourage healing.  Those hands mended our clothes on a treadle sewing machine, they washed diapers by hand, they cooked our food on a wood stove, they never had time for anything relaxing or fun.  It wasn't until she was into her 70's that she began to read again.  There was never time for that before.

So when I see my hands and find them similar to her's, there is no comparison to the things they have done.  We take so many things for granted through life, but our hands are truly a remarkable piece of equipment.  They can soothe our hurts, create lovely, intricate art, caress a loved one.  In and of themselves, they are a true work of art.

So what bothers me about seeing my mother in myself?  I am not sure.  Perhaps it is the age thing.  Maybe it is the inability to do the things I used to do, or possibly I just don't want to end up as she did.  I do know that I yearn to do so many things in the autumn of my life...…..to begin a bucket list.  To fulfill a bucket list.  I don't want to just let life happen anymore.  I want to take it by the horns and go out in a blaze of glory!  Or at least give it a shot until my fire burns out.  Young people don't understand that your need for "living", having experiences, or adventure doesn't die just because your body ages.  One just has to get a little more creative to accomplish some of those things.

A "older" couple came in the store the other day.  She carried oxygen and it was apparent she had a difficult time breathing.  But they were out and about doing things.  As they left, they each got on their big, shiny Spyder motorcycles and drove off.  Yes!  I say go for it.  Who says we have to drive a outdated sedan in our "golden" years!  They were living their dream.

Someone posed a question to me the other night.  Do we ever see our parents as anything but "parents"?  Do we see their desires, their dreams, their hurts, their passions.  I have to admit that I never considered those things with my parents.  They were just there.  Mine was a different generation where you were not "friends" with your parents.  I think some of that has changed but not all.  Do me a favor.  Ask your Mom or Dad about their dreams.  Ask them how they feel about things.  And listen to their answer.  You might be surprised that they feel pretty much the same as you about most things.

Just Writin' on the River Road

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