Thursday, November 20, 2008

These Hands



The first time I heard this song was at the funeral of my friend Kathy's father. She had grown up in a small town with a big family and a father that was a hardworking man who instilled that into his children. When I heard this song I thought about my own Dad and how much these words related to him also. It was at that time I decided I needed to start taking pictures of his hands.
I have been fascinated by hands for a long time, from getting tracings of grandchildren and putting them on aprons for the grandmothers, tracing Dennis's Grandmothers hand Afton and making a replica of it using one of her old quilts.
The first Christmas after Dad had died I had this picture made up and gave them has gifts, I was not the only one who had the same idea my daughter Kacy made up a different version and those are the two pictures that I have in my Room of Memories.

3 comments:

Sioux said...

This picture is such a natural of your Dad's hands - makes you almost feel as if you could reach out and touch them! I'm sure that's why they hold such a special place in your heart.


SOMEONE'S gonna have a birthday...
NA, NA, NA, NA!

vickers said...

What a powerful testimony of hard work and great love, both of which your dad was filled with. Miss Uncle Clyde.

Nettie said...

My Dad had just the right size hands for me to hold. My smaller hand fit in to his just right. They say my hands look just like his only smaller. His was so warm and strong feeling. One most memorable "special" time with him was when he took me to SLC for my eye exam, then afterwards we went to Standard Optical to pick out my first pair of glasses. Then because I was a "good girl", he took me to ZCMI to buy me a special purse I had seen a couple of weeks before while in Salt Lake school shopping with my Mom and others. I hid the purse at that time on a table inside a particular door of the store. (If I couldn't have it at that time, niether would any other little girl!). Hand in hand, I led my Dad to that store for which he was so amazed that I (in second grade at the time) even remembered where, what door and what table that silly little putse was on. But my most favorite thing about that time with him was as we were walking down the sidewalks of the city, my daddy was holding my hand, leading me along. It made me feel so protected against the world let alone making me feel like a "special" daddy's girl. There are so MANY memories! Us four girls could write a book about our Dad. Thanks Dad, you are still missed by ALL of us and LOVED FOREVER!