Hands

I really love to look at people's hands. You can tell a story from a hand. Our new neighbor has rough old hands, work worn and full of wrinkles.  My mother has beautiful hands. When I was a little girl I loved holding her hand and feeling its soft, smooth skin. I love looking at my Abuela's hands when she holds my youngest son. His skin is incredibly porcelain and hers is so dark and weathered. The two together are beautiful to me. Mostly because I know of the struggles her hands endured to secure the roots of my family in a new land that made the small life of my son a possibility. Her hands can now hold the product of her hard labor and courage. Her hands say comfort and healing, just as my father's hands say protection and love. Hands can say so very much. 

Today I took the kids and went to our local grocery store for a few items. The Bear sat in his shopping cart, pointing to all the animals on his cart seat cover and making the coinciding growls and chirps. The baby was in his little Ergo carrier, strapped tightly to my chest. I was looking down at his soft red baby curls when a hand came into my peripheral vision-- a very old, very shaky hand.

I had seen this hand twice before. I recognized it because the pinky finger is gone and so is half the pointer. We have met this cute viejo twice before in this grocery store. His name is Fernando and he is very sad and lonely. I know this because he tells me each time he sees me.

"I am sad and lonely."

But he loves the Bear and the Bear loves him. I saw Fernando's shaky hand reach out to touch the Bear's curls. I looked up and said hello, the Bear did the same. For some reason, Fernando is always close to tears when he sees us.  "So beautiful" he says. "He is at the very beginning. So beautiful. He looks so much like him."

I don't know this man. He is honestly a bit too old and incoherent to ever answer any of my questions. He mostly talks to the Bear and I suspect that he can not hear or process things very well. My heart breaks for him.

Today he left with these words. "The last time I saw you, little boy. I felt happy for so many days. I hope I can see you another time."  

I doubt I will ever know anything about this man. I wonder what sort of things brought his hands to this present state of extreme sadness. Judging by the missing fingers and extremely shaky hands its not hard to think of accompanying stories that might be his. He says that the Bear, "looks like him." Perhaps he lost a little boy once. I hope not. 

I left the store today hoping and praying that when Fernando went home that there would be someone waiting for him, with hands that could soothe him and bring him some comfort.