My hands; they are ageing.
Poor, dear hands, never much cared for, left to mercy of wind and rain. What little respect given, when they have opened the world to me. The pleasure of touch. Brushed cotton, silk, sand through fingers. The sharp edges of danger. Sensation as warning. Hot and cold. Skin. Little A's perfect skin. Young and velveteen.
My hands spun records, alert and nimble. Have turned page after page. Scribed imagination in words. Caressed my baby's face.
My hands create and love and comfort.
Without my hands I would have no...
What have I given them in return? Nothing. Not a jot for their manual servitude. Mother said, 'moisturise your hands everyday.' I was twenty four. They were plump, ripe, so I didn't bother with creams. Not even in my thirties. Now I have a tube in the bathroom, a tube on the chest of drawers. I think the tube in my handbag is past expiry.
The creams, they smell of July over grown. Too flowery. Too condensed. I like neutral, plain. Honest vanilla for me. No wafts of jasmine please. Or lily.
Looking at them, they have lost youth's sheen. Dry mud flats. The pitted surface of fruit. Veins bumping under skin like roots breaking free. Wrinkles. Fine lines etched in wood, all markers of minutes and years. Knuckles. Flattened stumps, pummelled by stone and earth.
When Little A was birthed, and my body cancelled out, numb, it was my hands that touched the moment; retained the ability to impress, be impressed upon. My baby, my child, my girl. Her fingers on breast, the first object of love, finding existence through touch, through her hands.
Leopard spots. Gravy taints of decline. Junk mail landing on the doormat. Will I get them? When will they happen? Long, long ago, I asked a baby sitter what those things were on her hands. Leopard spots she said. Leopard spots.
My Grandmother's hands, warm and soft. Before the end, unusable, frozen, curled like talons; raking away memory, making room for sempiternity. Those hands once made food, and party dresses, and touched with such tenderness...
...Hands, I would like to shake yours.
This is the second day of the seasonal linky One Week. From Monday till Wednesday, I'll be posting a photograph(s) and a few words that diarises and distills my experience of autumn '13. Take a peep at the details here. You can join in for one, two ... or the full three days. And don't forget to add #oneweek on Twitter, and comment on each others posts...
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Beautifully written as per... I empathise, having worked in beauty PR for several years, I've been conscious for ages that I should look after mine, but of course it's only once they started to look unrecognisable to my mental picture of them that I took action! I now carry hand cream in my bag, can't bear the dry bits in between the fingers otherwise!!! xx
ReplyDeleteThank you very much lovely lady.... same with me, I've only really started to take care of mine now, probably left it too late, and I'm so with you on the dry bits between the fingers. I have some at home and in my bag! X
DeleteYou don't get any prizes for bringing a tear to my eye, but you have done it again! I know what you mean about hands, my hands really show me up and it phases me a little whereas grey hairs I think are dignified.
ReplyDeleteOh no.... don't cry :o). I think I am starting to pay more attention to my hands than my ageing hair too. I've accepted the greys, but it's taking some getting used to, the thinner, dry skin on my hands.
DeleteSuch a beautiful post - I love your descriptions of hands - very evocative. And you are such a good photographer - I adore the red leaves. x P.S. Off to apply some hand cream...
ReplyDeleteThank you very much my dear.... and thank you for appreciating the photos too - I love those leaves too. X
DeleteMine are cold, but I always say "Cold hands, warm heart".
ReplyDeleteNow I like that saying!
DeleteFound myself looking at my hands having read this. Must find that handcream! Beautiful writing as always (did comment on your champagne post too, think I might be in spam!) :)
ReplyDeleteThank you lovely! Funnily enough, I've been wearing more hand cream lately.... I had a look for your comment but couldn't find it anywhere !? But don't worry... it's there in spirit. X
DeleteSuch beautiful prose my dear, which came from your hands as well as your heart so they're still not letting you down! And I always look forward to your pictures generally, but especially during #oneweek. I know exactly what you mean and a friend suggested hand cream with a high SPF years ago, which is actually hard to find. xx
ReplyDeleteThank you very much :o). Good 'ole hands eh? Glad you are liking the photos.... I've been using a lot more hand cream since I wrote this post. X
DeleteBeautiful post. Hands are similar to eyes, like the window to a soul and teller of a persons adventures and journey.
ReplyDeleteThank you very much! I completely agree, they are very similar to the eyes, and show so much character.
DeleteHow poignant. Funny how autumn makes us think about ageing. ps try lotil - great for time-worn hands and not summery at all.
ReplyDeleteI can't help but feel a bit crumbly when I look at the leaves falling off the trees in autumn. Good tip - thank you. X
DeleteI only started moisturising a few years ago, my hands are too bad, the fine lines around my eyes I can deal with but the bags under them - UGH!
ReplyDeleteI've left it too late as well.... and the bags under my eyes? Well, same as you - UGH! :o)
DeleteAutumn really does make you think of passing time. And looking at my hands (and neck...) also does. We are alike in our neglect of our hands, I await the cracking and splitting caused by winter, and still can't remember to put cream on my hands! Lovely post, such evocative words xx
ReplyDeleteWith all those falling leaves and bare branches, it's hard not to isn't it? I have to make my self remember to apply cream everyday, I find it so easy to forget. Thank you very much. X
DeleteI often worry about my neglected hands and nails as I dip them in and out of the kitchen sink, scrub at things or rub my palms in times of anxiety. I try really hard to remember, like you I have a tube, a tub by the bed, in the kitchen in my bag. They however are almost as neglected as my hands. Oh well maybe one day the importance of looking after my hands will reach the top of my list of things to do and I'll have soft and silky palms. Thank you for sharing your beautiful and evocative thoughts. Really enjoyed reading, it's been too long. xxx
ReplyDeleteI'm like you, I have to really remember to apply cream to my hands, but then I forget so easily as well. I've come quite late to this hand cream malarky! Thank you very much lovely lady, so glad to see you are blogging more again. X
DeleteI love my hands. I love what they touch, hold, give x.
ReplyDeleteAutumn/winter is tough on hands, old and young.
Lovely to hear of your fondness for yours, and you are so right, this time of year is very hard on hands. X
DeleteOh my goodness there is such beauty in this post. And I shed a tear at the end for your grandmothers hands for I remember the same - laid in a hospital bed. It stuck me then that the skin on her hands was that of someone years younger. Reading this has reminded me I like to take more care of mine xx
ReplyDeleteThank you very much lovely.... it's horrible seeing such a dearly loved grandparent wither away isn't it? It used to upset me seeing my Grandmother's hands, they were so creative. I have made a pledge to take greater care of mine too. X
DeleteWhat beautiful words, Sarah... And stunning photos as companions. xx
ReplyDeleteThank you very much my dear! X
DeleteI've got to hand it to you ;) Great post beautifully written. Made me remember my Granny's gnarled old hands that were so creative and clever. Mine are suffering from the cold. Love the pictures with this post too.
ReplyDeleteSorry that I missed One Week again. I have been off the grid really. xxx
Oh I love a good pun! Thank you lovely! My Grandma's hands were very creative too.... Mine really feel the cold too and get so dry. Don't worry about missing #oneweek, I know you've been a very busy lady. X
DeleteStunning writing. Just beautiful. They say you can tell the story of someone's life in their face but I think you can see it in their hands too. I always think that about my Husband - his hands are like velvet - never a day touching a shovel or labouring - and it tells. I have a complete OCD about applying hand cream before bed. I can't sleep unless I do it. After years of doing it, my hands just don't feel right. (Clarins by the way and think it probably does fall into the floral scent bucket!). x
ReplyDeleteThank you very much lovely.... and yes, you can definitely tell a few things about a person by the state of their hands. Good tip about hand cream before bed - I'll try that, keep the skin supple through the night. I actually like that Clarins and cream - it's deeply moisturising. X
DeleteBeautiful post as always Sarah and I just love the photos, wonderful :)
ReplyDeleteThank you very much lovely :o)
DeleteBeautiful post x
ReplyDeleteThank you X.
DeleteBeautiful. I look forward to hearing you read this at BML, such wonderful wording in a sweet beautiful post x
ReplyDeleteThank you very much.... and what a lovely comment X
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