These hands are 93 years old.
93.
Think about that.
93 years old.
These hands belong to my children's Great Grandfather.
Messy's namesake.
My husband's grandfather.
These hands still drive.
Do laundry.
Cook.
Clean.
These hands work at the family business.
Every day of the week.
These hands care for a wife who is 91 years old.
These hands live in the same house they have lived in for over 50 years.
These hands hug my children.
And my dog Studley.
These hands make Jello for my children every week. Just because they want to.
These hands come to my house at 3pm every day to visit my kids.
With a snack.
These hands sit in the back seat of their own car so my children can sit in the front seat and pretend they are driving.
Sometimes Studley joins them.
These hands are 93 years old.
93 years old.
Imagine everything they have seen.
Touched.
Experienced.
Touched.
Experienced.
6 comments:
This is beautiful. I envy this relationship.
What a beatuiful post and wonderful tribute! And how lucky you are to have him stop by every day. I would LOVE that!!!
This made me miss my boys' Great-Grandparents that are back in the city we moved from. They are both 92.
Such sweet sentiments...
What a lovely and unique tribute ... and what a vital person to still be so involved and active. I hope this vitality is in all your family's genes!
this is an amazing post. I love how you look at the world.
Fabulous post. How lucky they are to have their great grandfather in their life. My mom once made a photo album just of hands---it was lovely. Maybe you could get another pic of his hands, but this time with all their little hands--what a keepsake.
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