Hands

The other day Kay posted a picture of her "Gramcrackers" hand. (great name!)) I loved it! Hands in a photo really speak to me, and hers was just precious. You could feel her spirit and imagine the life she led. It made me want to know more about this wonderful woman.

Here's a photo my niece Cassie took a few years ago. I love it. Hands tell such stories, don't you think?


And here's an oil that my sister Robin did of my daughter Amy's hands holding her daughter Emma as she met her new little brother Liam for the first time. You don't need to see more than a mothers hands to see the love she feels.



When I was little I loved my grandpa's hands. I loved how they felt and how he was missing most of his finger tips from woodworking accidents. (Once when he cut off a finger grandma cut a hole in a little box and stuck her finger up threw the hole and laid it on some cotton with a touch of ketchup. She'd ask us kids if we wanted to see grandpa's finger and then wiggle her finger when we lifted the lid. Ahhhh memories. Grandparents are the best!)