A Missed Photo Opportunity

My hands are changing. My skin is changing. My knuckles are a little more chapped than usual and it seems all the lotion in the world doesn't help it. I have a few scars here or there, and the veins are starting to be a little more visible than in my younger days. My fingers look a little more wrinkled, too. Yes, my hands are changing. For the record, I've never had beautiful hands. And I'm OK with that (as if I had a choice). The hands I have, have done me well through the years, and I am blessed with them. They help provide an income for my family (I do a great deal of typing at my job), they cook, they clean, they fold, they drive, they write, they create. Yes, they are good hands. Strong. A bit stocky. But good hands.

A few days ago, while waiting for a .pdf file to open on my computer at work (it seems like it takes those files forEVER to load), I found myself sitting at my desk looking down at my hands and thinking. My thoughts drifted quickly to my Grandma Josephine, and her hands. I loved Grandma's hands. And as I age, my hands are becoming more like hers. I started thinking of that scene in the movie Beaches when Barbara Hershey's character starts looking through a box of old pictures to compare her hands with her mothers. That's a great movie, and a great scene.

Grandma's hands were perfect to me. Strong - not very dainty at all - but I think it really depends on how you move them, don't you?

I wish I had taken a photo of Grandma's hands.

I can close my eyes and imagine her shuffling a deck of cards, or dancing in her kitchen while fanning her hands back and forth like a flapper girl. I can see her holding a needle and yarn as she crocheted slippers (probably for one of us grandkids), or how she would shake the Yahtzee dice as we played a game. I see her picking out the perfect earrings to wear with one of her many stylish outfits and putting them on - moving her hands from one ear to the next. And I can imagine her laughing at someones joke and throwing them up in the air as if it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard.

I used to love sitting with Gram and holding her hands. I was fascinated in the veins on top, that became more and more prominent as she aged. I used to take my fingers and "wiggle" the veins back in forth, always asking her, "Does this hurt, Grandma?" She'd always reply, "Nope, I don't feel a thing!" I just loved doing that ...

This is a great photo of Gram with my Mom, taken around 1943. It has always been one of my favorite photos of them - my Mom, a young little girl, with her Mommy. They both are so beautiful in this picture.

I have so many photos of Gram through the years - but none taken of her "Grandma Hands". Sure wish I would have thought to take a photo of them when she was still with us. Ah, well. At least I can still close my eyes and remember them. That will have to be enough.

Any photos you wish you had taken? Or any photos you have taken that you are so glad you did? Please share in the comments ... I'd love to know ...