Sophia's Hands

There are so many little things that in the busy days of life that we tend to overlook. Putting Sophia to bed is always the highlight of my day. We have our routine; she finishes her bottle and hands it to me then pulls her purple fuzzy blanket over her head while turning her head into my breast. I always snuggle her close enough so I can smell her lavender baby lotion and feel the warmth she gives off when she snuggles so perfectly into my arms. So many times before I have reached down to caress her feet and hands feeling the bond we share from just being so close. But this time it was different. Tonight I reached down to hold the hand of my sleeping baby and her once tiny bony wrinkled hands that could barely wrap around my index finger were no longer felt.

Sophia’s hands. They’re plump, dimpled, and able to wrap around tightly around my finger. At that moment it came to me that at one time my hand sat in my mother’s hands while she rocked me to sleep. I felt a sense of happiness and sadness to think of all that her hands have experience and will one day experience.

Her tiny hands began a journey before she left the womb. Her hands pulled on the monitors during labor to signal she was ready to meet the world. They pulled her body up so that she could begin to stand tall and proud in this world. Not too long ago those little hands let go of mine as she took her first steps.

One day those hands will let go of mine and hold onto the metal bar as she pulls herself onto the school bus for her first day of school.

They’ll grip the handlebars of her first “Big Girl” bike while her Daddy run’s behind her holding on, and they will help her off the ground when he lets go.

They will let go of my hand while crossing the street and hold the hand of someone who makes her heart dance when he wraps his pinkie around hers in a movie.

Her hands will hold the phone as the boy she has been waiting for to call asks her to a dance. Her hands will also hold the phone when he decides that he only wants to be friends.

Those hands will wipe away a lot of tears of sorrow and joy, slam a lot of doors, write lots of letters, and embrace in lots of hugs.

Her hand will hold the steering wheel with me in the backseat as she takes her driving tests and will embrace me when she gets her license.

They’ll lead her to new adventures. Her hands will nervously hold her pencil as she takes her MCAS test and SAT’s. With excitement they will wrap around her diploma and turn the tassel on her cap on graduation day.

Her hand will pack her belongings as she leaves for college. They will also open the door to her home when she comes back. They will carry her laundry.

One day her hand will wear a diamond from a young man that loves her as much as she loves him.

Her hands will hold her father’s arm as he walks her down the aisle. Her hands will wipe her Daddy's tears at the end of the aisle before holding the hand of her future.

Those hands will clutch in pain when she delivers her child, and they will tremble when she hold her baby for the first time. Those hands will pass my grandchild to me on the day that it is born.

Sophia’s hands will feel many foreheads, heal many cuts and bruises, wipe many tears, hold many books, tuck in many nights, light many birthday candles, wrap many presents, clean up many toys, and hold many hands when crossing the street.

And one day, when I am old and have lived a full life, I will cuddle up to her breast warm and at peace as I go to sleep. My daughter's hands holding mine.