HopeK429

Today is the day 6 years ago My sweet papa left this earth, he adopted me as his own when I was only 7 and was one of the kindest strongest men I have ever known , My Dad was military and this was the Granpa of my first friend I made when coming to the US and he's still my best friend to this day,, but every summer and holiday we would come to Tennessee and stay with Josh's Grandparents who later became my adopted family and ended up living with me until they both passed, Papa from Alzheimer's and Nana from Heart failure, Along with my Dad Papa taught me so much about life and I miss them both dearly.. but wrote this about Papa a few months before he passed away one day while we were out taking a short walk letting him get some fresh air I remember it clearly...


Today was a beautiful fall day out and so I decided to take Papa out and get some fresh air let him walk around the farma lil bit , He farmed his entire life after leaving the Army it was his passion and you can just see by the look in his eyes when he's out around the animals the tractors and all that that he is still in there somewhere even tho somedays he has no idea who I even am, but today he was with me after our walk and Papa sat down on the patio bench we have by the barn I fed the horse and watched him as I did this.. He didn't move, just sat with his head down staring at his hands.He did this from time to time but this time was different, he was lost in thought. Even with Alzheimer's there were times I could tell he was in there and he knew I was close by, today happened to be one of those days.
When I sat down beside him he didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if he was OK. Finally, not really wanting to disturb him but wanting to check on him at the same time, I asked him if he was OK. He raised his head and looked at me and smiled. Lord yes child "Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking," he said in a clear strong voice and always with a hint of a smile."I didn't mean to bother you, Papa, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK," I told him."Have you ever looked at your hands," he asked. "I mean really looked at your hands?
I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. He took them in his as I said No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point he was making he smiled began to tell me this story. "Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled, shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life. They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I fell upon the floor. They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child my Mother and Daddy taught me to fold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn kids. Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special. They wrote the letters home and trembled and shook when I buried my Parents and brothers before me and walked my Daughter down the aisle Yet, they were strong and sure when I dug my buddy out of a foxhole and lifted a plow off of my best friend's foot. They have held children, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand. They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well, these hands hold me up, lay me down,they feed me and again continue to fold in prayer. These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of my life. But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home. And with my hands He will lift me to his side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ." I just sat there holding these hands of the man I loved and called my Granpa, the hands that taught me to play a banjo and a fiddle, the hands that rocked my babies to sleep, the hands that helped me and learned me how to do things with the horses I so love, the hands that held mine when I was scared of the dark when we would walk out to the barn to check the animals every night I was staying with him and nana,The hands that hugged me every time I need a hug, Papas hands were the strength we all needed in life, and I will never look at my hands the same again after that talk with him that day. And I remember sitting beside him and knowing God had just reached out and took my Grandpa's hands and led him home. When my hands are hurt or sore or when I touch the face of someone or something I love ,I think of Papa. I know he has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God. I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel His hands upon my face someday just as Papa is doing as I'm re reading this post and wishing he was here with us, What a day that will be :)