For Dad

I have always had this thing for hands

for they tell a story

of loved ones they have comforted

words they have written

work they have completed

 

I remember watching your hands

pluck at guitar strings

or glide across a piano

I admired their strength

when I watched you chop wood

and how gentle

when you applied a band-aid to the scrapes on my knees

 

Now I look at your hands

aged with spots

wrinkled

but still so strong

and gentle

and I love that you still carry

band-aids in your wallet

for your accident prone daughter

 

and as I sit next to you

holding your hand

I have to fight back tears

because these hands won’t be around

to hold me forever

and I know that as your hands age

so do mine

and the hands on the clock

just keep ticking

---

For my dad, on his birthday.

Love & life lessons,

Kristian

(I am not a big fan of country nor blue grass music, however; I am proud of my Appalachian roots, and I am fond of this Appalachian folk song because my dad often plays it.)