Hands Of Silk

      I am so grateful for the idea of doing this. If for no other reason than to share in the beautiful memories of the life of such an amazing woman with people who love her the way I do.

     It is interesting. I have lost people I love dearly, but none the way I love grandma. And I have missed people I have lost, but none the way I miss grandma. Feeling the loss of her is something I still feel everyday and it is a strange and still new sensation. It is like I know everyday I am going to wake up with a load of grief. I feel like I start getting used to the weight and then suddenly its so much more than it was the day before.. I asked Dustin one day a few months after losing grandma if it ever gets any easier. He lost his grandfather some years ago and was very close to him as well. He told me no. He said the pain of losing someone you love and are close to never really goes away. That years later you wake up missing them so much, and you are surprised it feels like it just happened. I have learned over the past 3 years that he was so right.

     Today I woke up thinking about her hands. My mind is not the best thing to rely on these days. It is lost in the land of mommy brain, but as I think back to a day I sat in grandmas room in the Hillfield house, I remember talking about her hands. I had noticed a little girl in my class at school with beautiful fingers. I was jealous, I didn't feel like I had very pretty fingers. They have always been weak nails and grow sort of strangely. And my knuckles have kind of always been large. I felt like they were more masculine. Especially compared to this little girl who's fingers were so lovely and feminine. I remember grandma telling me that I had her hands. Hers were just like mine. She may have even apologized for me ending up with a curse filled gene.

    But that isn't what I woke up thinking about. That thought came latter.

    I woke up and immediately remembered the silky soft pads of her fingers. I have always loved grandmas hands. I even remember thinking how pretty and soft her hands were the day we talked about our hands.

         When I was little, certainly smaller than the complainy girl mentioned above, I would run into grandmas, everytime, sprawl myself across her lap on my tummy and she would tickle my back for what felt like hours. To this day, a good back tickle is something I crave. It doesn't matter if I just got one. I immediately want more. Grandma was a masterful back tickler. She had the softest hands. Hands of silk and she knew how to lull me into a relaxed state of bliss. Even as I got older, I would run in and sit in front of her- usually I fought with Katie to see who would get to grandma first- and she would softly run her hands around my neck, down the collar of my shirt, up into my hair. It was such an easy thing for her to do, but it was filled with so much love. Which is probably why I woke up thinking about it. Every time she did it, I knew how much she loved me. More so now that I have a little lady who is constantly begging for tickles of her own- sometimes back, sometimes feet (I don't know why.. She gets that from her dad). I was always on the receiving end. Now I fully understand how tired your arm gets while being the tickler!

     I miss grandma so much. She lived a life worthy of trying to live up to. I am honored to have hands like grandma and hope one day mine can be silky soft- hands of an angel, and that my own kids and grandkids remember me with as much love and fondness. I am so grateful for the endless supply of happy memories I have to get me through until I see her again.

  Miss you grandma!