Old Hands Hold Memories
“My grandmothers are full of memories, smelling of soap and onions and wet clay, with veins rolling roughly over quick hands, they have many clean words to say, my grandmothers were strong.”
I no longer look at my naked body. I use a magnifying mirror to apply moisturizer to my face in the morning and only look in the full-length mirror when I check out an outfit. However, my 2 1/2-year-old granddaughter is fascinated by all my body parts. When it is just the two of us, and I need to shower, she pulls her stool up to the bathtub, rests her elbows on her knees, and her hands under her chin. She then stares at me as I name every body part I wash, piping in to give me instructions and reminding me I must also wash my hips. The other day as I was towelling off, she said, Omi, you are so beautiful.
Okay, I teared up, ashamed that I could not see this same beauty. My granddaughter does not see my sagging breasts and protruding stomach. She knows that my soft body offers snuggles and comforts, my jiggly arms catch her when she jumps off the bed, and my butterfly kisses make her giggle, even though I am now losing eyelashes.
My granddaughter pointing out my roots.
The other day, we were sitting on the couch with her mother. She pointed at the veins on my hands and said, look Mommy, Omi has roots! I have been looking at my hands every day since. I recognize that the veins protrude when I am dehydrated. I see the veins stretching into my fingers, and I imagine them running up my arms, part of a vast network. Did you know that if you laid out all of the arteries, capillaries and veins in one body, end-to-end, they would stretch about 100,000 kilometres?
I think of how I am connected to my granddaughter through the nutrients and oxygen coursing through my daughter's blood to her placenta. And I think of how I have the same connection to my grandmother through my mother.
My grandmother’s hands bulged so much in her later days that the slightest scratch would start them bleeding. Her veins, bruises, and scabs created collages on the back of her hands. She would laugh it off, saying it was a sign of growing older.
Did you know that similar to tree roots, our veins are defined by the same fractals? In fact, blood vessels are one of the most impressive examples of a fractal branching pattern. Every cell in the body must be close to a blood vessel to receive oxygen and nutrients. And this is only possible through a fractal branching network where blood vessels branch and branch ever smaller.
Old hands can hold memories of good things. - Sarah Addison Allen
I think of all the marvels these hands have felt:
Clasping a fountain pen and dipping the pen into an inkwell
Flattening down gritty sandcastles on the beach
Licking salt from my fingers after enjoying fries with mayonnaise
Shakily applying a liquid eyeliner for the first time
Caressing the soft stubble on an adolescent boy’s cheek
Holding my husband’s head as we kiss deeply, passionately
Cupping my babies’ heads in my hand when they were so small I thought they might break
Pinching my brother’s nose to stop the bleeding
Giggling as a caterpillar tickled her way across my hand
Sighing as the heat of the fireplace warmed my ice-cold hands
Stroking my mother’s hair as she lay dying
And recently, cupping a hummingbird in my hand who had flown into the house
This list is endless. My future hopes for these old, veined hands? The ability to hold a pen so I can continue writing. A strong grip so I can safeguard my grandchildren, continue gardening, and grasp a cane. Dexterity so I can complete puzzles. Sensitivity so I can feel my fingers running through my husband’s beard.
What marvels have your hands felt? What do you hope the future holds for your veined hands?