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Ru's avatarRu's Rambles

journal, mother daughter, heart

My thoughtful daughter, Jess, gave me this journal several Christmases ago so that I would have plenty of time to jot down memories of my life for her to read after I’m gone.  It’s a wonderful idea book from Hallmark (naturally!) and includes questions that serve as jumping-off points for remembering all sorts of moments from childhood on.

Thinking about the precious bond between us,  I recalled a “visit” we made once for family counseling when Jess was young.  I don’t recall the reason we went or how old Jess was at the time, but what we do recall quite clearly was the psychiatric opinion that my daughter and I were too close. What?!  And as I recall, we never went back to that “doctor”!  The notation in my journal under most important lessons reads: “Psychiatrists who think a mother & daughter can be too close need only be seen…

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My Father’s Hands by Lucy M. Young

Gnarled and twisted with arthritis, Scarred and roughened by hard labor on the farm, Gentle hands God meant for healing broken bodies, Steady, careful hands for surgery.

Circumstances forced my father to renounce his calling And the talent in those hands was sacrificed; But they never lost their magic. They could calm a fevered, restless child with their soothing touch.

They could heal a horse’s harness gall Or a little child’s stubbed toe. They could carve and whittle clever toys, Build sturdy furniture for our home, Or a dainty doll’s bed for a little girl.

My memories of my father are wrapped up in his hands, Inarticulate and shy, he let his hands speak for him – Those gentle, patient, work-worn hands, Showing all the love he was unable to express in any other way.