THESE HANDS
By Laura E. Shallenberger
January 2021
Preface:
When the Hospice Nurse came to the house after Dad arrived from the hospital she was giving us some care instructions. One thing she told us was how to monitor Dad’s pain. One way to do that was to check his hands. If they were clenched that was a sign he was in pain. As I was sitting beside Dad’s beside I was checking his hands. Then I started thinking of all they accomplished in his almost 81 years of life. Then this poem emerged from my thoughts as I thanked God for his life and was praying for his peaceful departure from this world into the welcoming hands of Jesus.
These Hands
These hands might not look like much to you,
But to me they are hands strong and true.
These hands started a legacy dear to me
As they began a most important family tree.
These hands held another set of hands so tight,
Until he could muster the nerve to propose one night.
These hands held the hands of his soon to be bride
As they shared their vows and walked side by side.
These hands were the hands that must earn a good living,
Because to him this was the start of a new beginning.
These hands drove the car on that wonderful April day,
As his wife was in labor, there could be no delay.
These hands held their firstborn bundle of joy,
His heart burst with love as he looked at his boy.
These hands, three more times made that drive
As his family grew and was beginning to thrive
These hands held another boy, then a beautiful girl,
And one more time, one last boy as their future unfurled.
These hands were part of building a comfortable house,
For his four children and his beautiful spouse.
These hands put together a rocking horse, race car tracks,
A Doll house, bicycles, and bicycle racks.
These hands worked on car engines and car bodies,
Taught his children about hard work and fun hobbies.
These hands could play the guitar to help sing a tune
As he entertained family and perhaps caused mom to swoon.
These hands help build one of the biggest ships on the Great Lakes.
Welded hospital sterilizers, until the unbearable neck and head aches.
These hands played pinochle, poker, volleyball and croquet
Went on camping trips, to Disney and got lost along the way.
These hands clasped in prayer at the family table,
And they disciplined in love to keep his family stable.
These hands walked his daughter down the isle
With great love, pride, a few tears and that smile.
These hands welcomed four more of us into the family.
He treated us like his own sons and daughters happily.
These hands held his firstborn grand daughter and grandson
Then five more grands, that brought him great joy and fun.
These hands reached out in love to the nine great grands,
As each one was lifted up with the gentlest of hands.
These hands often caused chaos, so much laughter,
Embarrassment in public, and perhaps a bit of disaster.
These hands have recently caught his own tears,
As he grieved the loss of his son youngest in years.
These hands that are scarred, bent and worn
Are the hands of a man we all love and will mourn.
These hands we’ve all held recently at his beside
Mean so much to me as I sit tonight by his side.
These hands you may think are just ordinary and plain,
No, they were not perfect, or even well maintained.
These hands why are they so special and important to me,
Because they lovingly raised the man I love and married you see.
These hands will soon be held by another set scarred and worn,
By A Man whose hands were bruised, pierced and scorned.
These hands will be clasped in the hands of Jesus his Lord,
Then our beloved Dad’s hands and body will be forever restored.
