Thursday, November 3, 2011

Hands of Time

From there to here. Maybe that is what Neff Road is about. It is about a journey from there to here. I constantly go through the pictures and paper I have accumulated from there to here looking for stories to write and memories to embrace once more. All of it is my journey from childhood to this age that some call senior. I call it the age of illumination.

In working on my book about Neff Road, I came across an old card that evidently I sent to someone when I was a toddler. I've seen the card before paying little heed to it. Yesterday I place it on a pile of papers, a pile I turned over this morning. My mother had signed the card with my name, but not until the card was turned over did I see the true signature.....a small hand print that just fit the card.

I sat holding the card looking at the small print wondering what I was like as a child. Did I giggle and wiggle when Mom tried to outline my hand? Was the card to my Dad? As I looked at the card, I noticed the hand holding it. A hand that had gone from there to here.

I have my mother's hand outline when she was a girl. I have her mother's as well. Now I have mine, my daughter's, my granddaughters'. Five generations of hands. It's not that I needed proof that I was a little kid. I wish I could remember those times when I was very small. I wish I could remember my mother holding my little hand and my father laughing when he saw the hand print on the card. The distance from there to here is measured in the hands, the hands of time.

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