A simple photo opportunity.
A day in the sun. A day with the one I love.
Our hands.
Proof that he is here for me. Proof that he exists here in my life. Proof that he offers his hand to me.
I sit here looking at this innocent photo that I took today.
My hand on his. His hand at ease. His hand already used to mine finding it's way over to his.
I am very fortunate. I never forget this. I never take the offer of his hand for granted.
It reminds me of another photo I took four years ago.
Another day in the sun. Another day with the one I loved.
Our hands.
Proof that he was there for me. Proof that he existed here in my life. Proof that he offered his hand to me.
My hand on his. His hand at ease. His hand already used to mind finding it's way over to his.
I am very fortunate. I never forget this. I never took the offer of his hand for granted.
"... i will never take the offer of his hand for granted again."
ReplyDeletewords to digest, assimilate, live...
I read this post and it gives me hope that someday I might find the other hand that fits in mind and also be grateful for it after losing one 2 years ago. As a heavier woman now, it is so hurtful to think that I will not be attractive to another man, even though logically I should think the hell with the man who can only be attracted to the physical, but that really is the fact. Their is so much more to me than that, but I feel like the man I have met so far have not give me a chance. But your post gives me hope!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful Dan.
ReplyDeleteIt brought forth a memory of my husband. My hands were always freezing and when he would take my hand, his was this sensory explosion of warmth and a sense that he was right there.
Thank you for reminding me of that.
So happy for you.
Dan - I am so happy for you and your new man. From all accounts, he is just lovely (and gorgeous!) Every time I see a post here, or an update on facebook, I just smile. ...and this post is no exception.
ReplyDeleteThe last contact I had with my husband was when he eased through the fog of a coma and squeezed my hand so hard it brought tears- but I couldnt let go. It had been weeks since he showed any awareness. I whispered I was always there and he should keep fighting. He squeezed harder. Though that painful squeeze lasted for only a few seconds- it will last me forever. Five years later, I sometimes squeeze my own hand as hard as I can to relive that moment.
ReplyDeleteI must of held his hand for a good 30 minutes after he died. It was the only thing on his body that wasn't destroyed by the cancer. I loved holding his hand. What a beautiful gift you have recognized. I heart smiles for you.
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