Monday
Oct182010
Grandma's Hands
Last week, when I wrote a post inspired by the book, "The Kids Are All Right," one of the authors of the memoir, Liz Welch, was gracious enough to stop by my blog and comment on the post.
In e-mail correspondence that followed, she told me my blog makes her think of a favorite old song of hers, "Grandma's Hands" by Bill Withers. "Do you know it?" she asked.
I didn't, so I looked it up. I'm so glad she shared "Grandma's Hands" with me. Now I'd like to share it with you.
Today's question:
What do you remember of your grandma's hands?
Monday, October 18, 2010
Reader Comments (7)
Gave me chills!
In my mind, my grandmother's hands will always be knitting. Or quilting. Or playing the piano.
The song made me cry, remembering my Granny's hands. She cooked for me, smoothed my hair when comforting me, waved her hands about when she was telling a story (she was a great, animated story-teller).
I'll always cringe when I think about how much it must have hurt her poor hand when I was holding onto it when I was nine, had my tonsils out and was hurting, I squeezed her hand so hard, with stone in her ring biting into her other finger, she just made a hurt face and said, "That's okay, baby; I didn't need that old finger anyway."
I never heard this beautiful song before. We will never know what special memories our grandchildren will have about us when we are gone.
I remember my paternal grandmother liked to read and she always had her reading glasses on with a book or newspaper in her hands.. If she wasn't reading her hands would be busy crocheting and tatting lace.
My maternal grandmother loved to tend her large vegetable garden, and whenever I smell fresh herbs I think of her. I remember her hands braiding onions and garlic to hang them to dry and making lots of pies with fruit from her trees.
I remember that beautiful song! I remember both my maternal and paternal grandma's hands always being busy. They both worked so hard away from their homes, in their homes and always making sure that when we were together that it would be the best time ever.
I remember both of my grandmothers worked hard yet had slender, elegant hands. My maternal grandmother was an expert quilter, sewer, painter, etc. I regret I didn't inherit those skills from her.
When my own mother became a grandmother, she carried on the handiwork of knitting and crocheting for her grandchildren. Her hands were gnarled from an accident with an ancient washing machine ringer. Still, they made beautiful things.
Never heard this song before. Beautiful! There's also the old country song "Daddy's Hands."
My grandma had slender hands. Narrow. All those sized-small gloves - those would fit her perfectly. My hands are broad, with thick fingers - as a kid, even, my hands were bigger than grandma's. They were always neatly manicured, and grandma never went anywhere and had her nails "done." She had wrinkled hands, wore gardening gloves to garden, made her own bread every week - her hands could make the tiniest stitches in a quilt (her quilts were all done by hand) and she was endlessly knitting or crocheting something for someone. Grandma's hands were always busy, that's for sure.
EVERYONE: I love the descriptions from all of you about your grandma's hands. Lovely, poetic prose, ladies!