Grandpa's Hands

Grandpa's Hands

This is a discussion on Grandpa's Hands within the Off Topic & Humor Discussion forums, part of the The Back Porch category; Grandpa, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. He didn't move, just sat with his head down staring at his hands. When ...

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Thread: Grandpa's Hands

  1. #1
    Bravo3
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    Grandpa's Hands

    Grandpa, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. He
    didn't move, just sat with his head down staring at his hands. When
    I sat down beside him he didn't acknowledge my presence and the
    longer I sat I wondered if he was okay.

    Finally, not really wanting to disturb him but wanting to check on
    him at the same time, I asked him if he was okay. He raised his head
    and looked at me and smiled. Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking,
    he said in a clear strong voice.

    I didn't mean to disturb you, Grandpa, but you were just sitting
    here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were okay, I
    explained to him.

    Have you ever looked at your hands he asked. I mean really looked
    at your hands?

    I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them
    over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really
    looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point he was making.

    Grandpa smiled and related this story:

    Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have
    served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled,
    shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to
    reach out and grab and embrace life.

    They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the
    floor. They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a
    child my mother taught me to fold them in prayer. They tied my
    shoes and pulled on my boots.

    They dried the tears of my children and caressed the love of my life.

    They held my rifle and wiped my tears when I went off to war. They
    have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent.

    They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son.

    Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was
    married and loved someone special. They wrote the letters home and
    trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse and walked my
    daughter down the aisle.

    Yet, they were strong and sure when I dug my buddy out of a foxhole
    and lifted a plow off of my best friends foot. They have held
    children, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I
    didn't understand. They have covered my face, combed my hair, and
    washed and cleansed the rest of my body. They have been sticky and
    wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. And to this day when not much
    of anything else of me works real well these hands hold me up, lay
    me down, and again continue to fold in prayer. These hands are the
    mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of my life.

    But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out
    and take when he leads me home. And with my hands He will lift me
    to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of
    Christ.

    I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God
    reached out and took my grandpa's hands and led him home. When my
    hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and
    wife I think Grandpa. I know he has been stroked and caressed and
    held by the hands of God. I, too, want to touch the face of God and
    feel his hands upon my face.


  2. #2
    Senior Member
    Array FortyFive's Avatar
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    Thanks for a very humble and gracious post. I can relate to the old porch, dogs and hot summers with the old people sitting there watching the kids play. Many familys today may never know their mothers or fathers and have the unforgettable experience your grandfather speaks of.
    As you slide down the banister of life,
    May the splinters never point the wrong way.
    ---
    NRA Life Member

  3. #3
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    That is a most thought provoking piece - one we should all read and learn from. I'd like to think most of us can remember such times - whether with parents or grandparents. Slightly akin to those magical shooting trips/range visits with family elders.

    I have a piece to offer but think I'll post it in a seperate thread. It is another reminder of good things.

    A last range visit
    Chris - P95
    NRA Certified Instructor & NRA Life Member.

    "To own a gun and assume that you are armed
    is like owning a piano and assuming that you are a musician!."


    http://www.rkba-2a.com/ - a portal for 2A links, articles and some videos.

  4. #4
    Senior Member Array Prospector's Avatar
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    Red face

    Good on ya Bravo3 for that post...I agree, it is definitely a thought provoker. Thanks for sharing!!

  5. #5
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    That was a good one, Bravo3, thanks!
    Bumper
    Coimhéad fearg fhear na foighde; Beware the anger of a patient man.

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