Last year about this time

Hands

My son has HUGE hands. Huge!!! They are like little catcher's mitts. And they are strong, too.

They make me think of my grandfather's hands. My grandfather was a wonderful man. He lived by his hands. Grandpa Glenn was a carpenter, but so much more than that. He worked so hard until he was too sick and weak to do one more project.

My mother had amazing hands. She was a concert pianist, but the rest of her life was about her hands, too. How many times did she brush my hair when I was sad, how many towels did she fold, how many diapers did she change - as a mother and as a daycare provider and as a geriatric nurse? How many times did she mop the floors on her hands and knees? My mother lived by her hands.

My son's hands have only experienced a small portion of what life will bring to him, but it is my honor and privelege to guide those hands to touch people's lives in the most honorable and best way possible. It is so hard to think of that responsibility and sometimes I feel it pressing down so heavily - like every parent does, I am sure.

But in the quiet of the evening when he is sleeping and when he is perfectly quiet, I see those hands and realize that his lessons will be learned only one experience at a time. I will have to tread carefully during those steps.

I am happy for the opportunity.

Punkin Nonkey

Pumpkin patch. I loved it. We went to the pumpkin patch with Smedley Girls and Mike, Amanda, and Gracie.

So much fun having a beautiful son in the fall...