When Grandpa was taken to the hospital for last time, I had received a phone call that he had been taken to the Hospital in Delta. I drove like a mad woman and just as I turned the corner in Lynndyl, I passed an Ambulance. I knew it was Grandpa. I called the hospital and they said that he was still there. So I kept driving. I was prompted to call again. I did, and this time was told that he had been taken by ambulance to UVRMC.
I turned the car around and drove to Provo. I was able to see him for a few minutes and spend some time with him. The next day after work I drove down to Provo again to spend time with him. After I spoke with him for a few minutes, I realized his skin was so dry on his hands, arms and face. So I looked around for lotion. Just then, one of Grandma Riding's sons came in. I told them I had to run an errand and I left them to have some time with him.
When I returned they were gone. I had purchased some decent lotion and I washed Grandpa's face and then hands and applied lotion to both. As I rubbed the lotion into his beautiful hands, the hands that had held me lovingly so many times, the hands that had taken mine and given me a slight squeeze over the years as he mouthed his words, I realized ... after all these years, that I have his hands. I have never liked my hands until that day. And now I love them, and I get to think daily of how much I love him.
His Hands...
Labels: Grandpa Riding |
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
What a great Memory to have, you are very lucky to have your hands to remind you of the love Grandpa had for you, very touching.
I remember his hands so well Tam. Strong and gentile at the same time. I loved his hands as well.
How tender! I guess I should just grab a box of tissues when I come to check this blog, eh? ;)
Also? I've always loved your hands, Tam. Graceful, they are.
Post a Comment