These Hands

These Hands serve me well. I remember my Gma Elggren ' hands and it makes me happy, and sad. She never complained about them. She never once winced at the request of a piece of toast or a glass of juice. She made the greatest Sunday roast gravy and entertained us with dinner and loves. Her hands greeted me at the back door every single time with at least one cupping my cheek. They drew me in for a hug when it was time to go home. I remember being 5 and she came to visit in Reno. It was Winter and she chastised me sweetly for being bare footed in the house as her gnarled, bent fingers carefully applied socks to my kindergarten piggies. I think of all the times she held my hands in hers while looking me square in the eyes and calling me, "Sugar". A term I now call those I adore, with most reverent love. I think of those hands I loved and wonder how she ever did all she did. They bent over toward her thumbs, a little more at each joint. My Gpa once gave in and took her to Mexico to have them injected with gold. A treatment she was desperate to try because she heard it worked miracles. I cried in the back seat on the way home from our visit because I overheard my Gpa tell my folks, "she screamed" it was so painful. She had one or two joints replaced and they were so fragile, the dr broke the tips of her small fingers.
My mother is no different. She inherited my Gma's hands. They are delicate and beautiful. They are gnarled and have loved much. I once caught my Mom as the back screen door closed exactly over the knuckle lowest on her right thumb. She just stood still as the tears flowed and she held her hand, cupped in her left. I felt so terribly not able to help her feel better. It was the last I heard about how much they hurt.  I once balked at my Mom doing my dishes when she came to visit. Embarrassed they were there to do. She looked at me and pleaded," Oh, please let me do them! The warm water feels so good on my hands!"  She daily looks for ways to use her still aching hands to serve those she loves! An endearing example of service and love. I think of another set of hands that set a powerful example of the Ultimate Love. I don't know if they were gnarled and bent from arthritis, but I have read about times they healed and blessed and served. I am moved with gratitude to know who He was, is.
I saw the hand specialist at work yesterday thinking he'd look at my sore hands and say, "yep, arthritis". No idea he'd pronounce a curse of joint replacement. Injections first to by more time. Painful injections that stung and put horrible pressure into my already throbbing joints. But, there is good medicine and talented hands to bless my hands. So, I will suck it up, for I have babies to snuggle and children to hold and life to clap at and a sweetheart who loves to hold my hands. I will cry when the time comes for more surgery, but I am grateful. And, I am a blessed girl with a heritage of strong women, with gnarled hands. I can do this.