I had the privilege of celebrating the life of my Opa last weekend with my family. Though there certainly were tears, it was a special time of remembering the man that he was. I so appreciated the things that family and friends shared about him because they reminded me of the strong character that he had. Smarties (Canadian candies....way better than M&M's for those who don't know :) ) were handed out at his memorial as he was known by his family and church as "The Candy Man". He was ready to go Home and though we all will miss him, we knew he was ready. I think all of us felt very much for Oma who is now apart from the love of her life, until she goes Home too. She was greatly comforted by being circled by her family, and especially the babies. It was the first time she met Quinn, my niece, and Theo and it was obvious that she was delighted with them. Oma has always loved all of us but she has especially had a warm spot for the babies. She has knit and crocheted and cuddled and kissed a host of us as infants and it was so fun to present her with a couple more little people to bask in her attention.
Kelly took this one for me of four generations of hands. Theo's, mine, my mum's and Oma's. I look at Oma's hands and think of the meals she has cooked, the candy she dug out of her purse for her grandchildren, the cuddles that she gave us all. I remember the way she played Polly Pockets with Ruby a few years ago and took time to dress the dollies and then spooned apple sauce in Ruby's little mouth. My cousin, Trevor, reminded us this past weekend of how during the war she used those hands to reach out and to nourish another baby that needed to be fed along with her own baby. She has beautiful hands.
I look at my mum's hands which have driven us to lessons, rubbed the backs of my kids, created pottery and gifts for others. I think of how she used to sew us dresses when we were little and how we would find them completed on our beds. She does anything she can to bless those around her. She has beautiful hands.
I look at the hands of my son, with little dimples and perfectly smooth skin. I see him wave them toward me and touch my face and it makes my heart want everything right and good for him in this world. He has beautiful hands that will touch many, many lives.
I loved to see how my Oma was nourished by loving these little ones. I am glad that my son got to feel the blessing of her touch, even though he slept through all of it. Each of these photos is a reminder to me that I want to have beautiful hands too.