You hold in your hands the happiness of more people than you can imagine.
-Henry B Eyring
When we are young our parents take care of us. Whey they grow old, we return the favor. Or that is the way it is supposed to work. Sometimes life forces us into roles we weren't prepared for.
I watch my grandmother brush back the hair from my mother's face and put the straw of her drink close to her mouth. She puts the drink down and places her hand on top of my mother's. I look at their hands as I sit in the corner of the hospital room. My grandmother's hand is weathered ; each line and age spot telling a story. Her nails are long soft pink ovals and she wears a gold wedding band. These hands have accomplished great things and touched many.
I flash back to my grandmother in the hospital not long before . When I walked in I quickly clasped her marbled hand. This made her look up smiling and say " How wonderful to see you". I didn't stop holding her hand till the nurse came in and said she needed her rest.
Both my grandmother and mother are back to good health but these hospital visits made me realize that this is what family does; when someone is weak we hold them and give them some of our strength. Things held precious in our heart were once held precious in our hands.
