Hands

'My hands are small, I know But they're not yours, they are my own'. Not just a great couple of lines delivered to us from singer/songwriter Jewel, but a bit of a personal mantra of mine. For a man of my stature, and with feet akin to canoes numbering 14 in size, my hands are really quite dainty in comparison. Sure, I like to get a manicure. Of course, I don't do any manual labour, so they are soft and callus free. And it truly is handy (pardon the pun) having the options available to me to be able to purchase from the women's selection of gloves as well! 'Knowing the back of your hand...' is an excerpt from an expression we use to relate extreme familiarity. When I look at the back of my hands, all I see is little cobwebs. The criss cross patterns formed by grooves in my skin over my knuckles make me feel old. They truly do look like somewhere Charlotte may really like to live. This is not a familiarity I am comfortable with at circa 30 years old. What I am relieved about is a nagging little pain I had for a few weeks in my left middle finger's joint has now just about disappeared - phew. I'm not ready for that kinda arthritis just yet, alright. I've always been complimented for on my long eye lashes, and in recent years people have said the same about my nail beds. I still don't know which part is the bed, nor recognize how they are any longer than other peoples, but I'll take it! When old actresses and socialites start to have plastic surgery to mask their aging, can they do something with their hands as well, or is this the dreaded tell tale of age? I urge you to take a look at Maggie on Days of Our Lives. Lookin' good that fiery red head is...hands; not so much. She old! Their liver spots and such however; must we consider them battle scars, something earned or marks simply inherited due to age? I've likely mentioned it before, and if you know me well you are aware my favourite movie is Beaches. There is a scene nearer to the end when Hilary is very close to and cognizant of her death when her young daughter observes that their hands are the same. A mad search ensues to find a picture of Hilary's mother's hands who also died a young mother. It's a moment in the movie that has always bothered me a bit; I think only because to me it means that she fears her daughter will have the same fate in coming years. My own mother for the last 40+ years has worn upon her right hand a beautiful giant opal ring. I believe it was her 'promise' ring from my father before they were married, and it's always been worn proud and steady matching the diamond on her left. It happens to be her birthstone, and while in the last couple of years I have learned that the myth states; if not born in October, it's extremely bad luck to wear an opal, all I know is that it has made me remember her hands. Hands down, mine are not ones like Michelangelo that built masterpieces, I'm just happy to be able to use them to share my odd thoughts and rants with you all in this forum.

Toodles