Another Cherished Moment...

These hands aren't the hands of a gentleman,

These hands are calloused and old,

These hands raised a family,

These hands built a home,

Now these hands raise to praise the Lord.

These hands won the heart of my loved one

And with hers they were never alone.

If these hands filled their task

Then what more could you ask

For these fingers have worked to the bone.

Now don't try to judge me by what you'd like me be

For my life hasn't been a success.

Some people have power but still they grieve

While these hands brought me happiness.

Now I'm tired and I'm old and I ain't got much gold,

Maybe things ain't been all that I planned,

Lord above, hear my plea when it's time to judge me,

Take a look at these hard working hands.

The past two weeks have been full of taking care of Mimi and Papa. Papa had a skin cancer removed from his ear, he will have the stitches out tomorrow and we'll see how it is doing. We've had to spend lots of time at the Medicaid office and with Social Security so that their care continues to be covered. Lots of things that are stressful and difficult. The medicine Papa has been given to ease the pain as his ear heals is wearing on him. And he was just so very tired today. After taking him to Frankfort this afternoon to handle some of these 'things', I dropped him off at the nursing home to play a DVD of a country music session in Nashville instead of his usual singing. He was just too worn out to sing today. I headed over to Community Based Services to finish up the last of our errands. When I got back to the nursing home to finish the last 1/2 hour of the DVD, I pulled up a chair and Papa put Mimi between us and we sat as a little family to watch the rest of the DVD. I popped a wintergreen mint in Mimi's mouth, pulled out my crocheting and sat to enjoy the music with everyone else. Occasionally Mimi would speak a little and we would hug and chat. At one point I looked over and she was really focused on the music. Then my eyes went to her hands. She spends a lot of time with her hands clasped together and held close to her chest, almost like a little child saying a prayer. This time her hands were in her lap and placed over them were the big hands of my father, well worn with life, but still gently resting on her hands. My mom was at peace and enjoying the music. My father was holding the hands of his sweetheart. The words to the song 'These Hands" came to my mind. It is one that Papa loves and says is really about him and his life. I've put the words at the beginning of this blog entry. This was again one of those moments when I get to enjoy and appreciate what real love is. I just wish that the world today understood that true love really is more that physical beauty or the passion you see played out on TV and the movies. Real love last when we are in the trenches with difficult situations and we can still hold hands that are worn and feel the sweet feeling that has kept us together through good times and bad. What a blessing.