Autobiography of These Hands of Mine

These hands have nurtured young, caressed lovers, washed uncounted dishes and pots and pans, hung laundry, washed the body of my deceased mother, held hands of friends, and strangers too, in support during joy and tragedy and they have welcomed and received comfort.

These are the unmanicured hands of a gardener, unafraid to place my hands in the dirt to pull up unwanted plants (you may call them weeds if you prefer, I do not.)

These hands are signs of an individual who lives, works, loves. And, at 67 years, my hands show their age with (a few, only a few!) age spots.

These hands, well lived and reaching out for more life, love, work and joy!