Member Poem

I overheard two women in the library yesterday.
Talking amongst themselves as their fingers
grazed the pieces of a board game
and their smiles spoke of
brighter days.
One woman, turned towards the other,
told her this:
“I saw your husband and I
noticed something interesting.”
“What did you notice?,”
the woman replied,
eyes still focused on the pieces in front of her
even as her body and mind was engaged
with the conversation before her.
“His hands- I noticed your daughter
has the same hands as her father.”
There was no envy or jealousy in her tone,
no wishful thinking as to what she desired
for those hands to do to her.
No, none of that.
There was only that simple,
beautiful,
wonderful thought-
The hands of another can also belong
To the hands of the other.
The hands that have come to shape her world
will remain with her as her fingers
wrap around the possibilities
of what her world can now be,
with the hands of those
who made her path
and kissed her tears away.
Who, perhaps, carelessly brushed dirt out of
the wounds on her knee when she fell on the playground,
protectively told her that boys are a nuisance,
as his heart strained at the sight of
her tear-stained cheeks from some
most recent heartbreak.
These hands-
His hands, her hands, your hands.

This was not even the most beautiful part-
the most beautiful part was when her mother,
the woman with her eyes still trained
on the board before her,
smiled softly to herself
before looking up at the woman
and affirming what she had just said:
“I know.”
Her eyes crinkle softly and she begins to
explain:
“She has both of our hands actually,
her father and I.
One of her hands look like his
and the other looks like mine.”
Imagine,
the hands of both of your
most treasured guides
keeping you
guiding you
bringing you forth,
pulling you back.
Watching you fall before
eventually
Letting you go-
Even as their heart breaks
and the tears they wiped
from your eyes so many times
suddenly reappear on their
softly wrinkled cheeks
and happily sorrowful eyes.
As your reflection walks away,
turns one last time
and waves your hand in a
metaphorical goodbye.
Happy to have known these hands
and now taking them with you
wherever you go.