Sunday, December 19, 2010
In good hands
I've always half joked that I married this man for his hands.
But it's partially true. As a woman who has spent a lifetime feeling shy about the less-than-petite size of her hands, the first time I felt his large, warm hand confidently take mine, as we rushed down a side street in Lienz, Austria, after our very first official dinner date, I swear I heard the universe exhale.
What I didn't know, was what good fathering these hands were capable of.
Now, all those years later, if I could wish for anything, in the whole of the entire crazy tilting world, I might be tempted to wish that my daughters will never, ever, for as long as they live, forget their father's patient, warm, strong, infinitely- generous helping hands.
Sort of new BabyCenter posts here and here and here.