His HandsMay 20, 2010 at 2:26 am | Posted in Bun | 38 Comments
Tags: Babies, Children, Dreams, Family, Hands, Hope, Life, Motherhood
He is 12 days old. Days.
Such a short time. Such a long time.
What was life like before?
His fingers are long and delicate. Like a piano player’s, like his father’s.
Right now, they clutch mine, desperate for contact, connection, comfort.
Soon, they will reach further, to explore, explain, experience.
They will press the shiny keys of an oboe or trumpet or calculator.
They will grip the rough edge of a yellow number two and the leather seams of a baseball.
They will push a lawnmower. (And, one day, a stroller?)
Today, his tiny, wrinkled hand is fisted with hunger.
Tomorrow, with energy, purpose, passion.
Like his heart.