This picture shows four generations of hands, baby girl to great grandma. I had ALS at the time but didn’t know it.
Take a look at your hands. Aren’t they marvelous?
Lend me a hand. Give ‘em a hand. Have it on hand. Have it at hand.
Tip your hand. My hands are tied. I’ve time on my hands. All hands on deck.
Hand it in. Hand it over. Hand it out.
Hand-me-down. Hands down. Backhand. Helping hand.
By hand. First hand. Second hand. Heavy handed.
Out of hand. On one hand. On the other hand. In good hands.
Hands permeate our language and are a part of most everything we do.
Raise in praise or protest. Tickle or caress.
Wave hello or goodbye. Wipe a tear from a child’s eye.
Scratch an itch. If you can’t do that, it’s a bitch.
So, I’m not a poet. I wrote all this to show it.
Seriously though, try this when you’re done reading. Place your hands in your lap and pretend they are tied down. Don’t pick up your phone or reach for anything. Don’t adjust your clothes or scratch your nose. Keep your hands still for an hour. What do you notice?
Let’s take it up a notch. Stand up and let your hands fall. Walk to the kitchen and try to get the cheesecake from the fridge without your hands. No worries, you can’t get it to your mouth anyway. Now walk to the bathroom and try to use toilet. Can you unzip your pants? Don’t forget to wash your hands. You get the idea.
I ask you to try this not to garner pity, but rather for you to marvel at the form and function of your hands. For the next 24 hours, pause and notice how often and the diverse ways in which your hands serve you. Leave a comment and share your experience of life without hands.
I’m Forgiven and Free and I can handle it