These Wrinkled Hands

These wrinkled hands! I see them every time I work upon my computer. No longer smooth and soft...now worn and wrinkled! Oh how sixty years of life has changed them!

How can they be mine? I am the eternal babyboomer! My childhood is implanted within my memory as if it happened yesterday.

As a child...these hands lovingly tended the dolls who were my "babies".
...these hands played with paper dolls and built fancy sand castles.
...these hands hugged the daddy I loved ever so dearly.

As a teenager...these hands cared for other people's children.
...these hands learned to cook and clean.
...these hands drove endless miles from the day I turned sixteen.

As a young adult...these hands wrote many exams to get me through college.
...these hands encouraged others in my work with the poor.
...these hands were often in prayer for help from above.

As a mother...these hands gently caressed my only child.
...these hands were there to help guide and direct.
...these hands worked hard to provide a happy home.

As a wife...these hands have cooked and cleaned for nigh unto 35 years!
...these hands have wrung from worry when the way became rough.
...these hands continue to serve the one I love.

As a granny...these hands still love to bring smiles.
...these hands are no longer quite as strong, but
...these hands will just have to do!

As a senior...these hands are now showing years of wear.
...these hands held and cared for my parents in their final days.
...these hands continue to stand ready to help as needed.

These wrinkled hands? Yes, they are mine...the only ones I have.
They go along quite well with the grey that insists on dotting my hair
Although no longer smooth and youthful, I'd not wish to be without them!