Granny's Hands

Yesterday was New Year's Day.  As with almost every first day of the new year throughout my life, we celebrated with pork and sauerkraut.  This German tradition was passed down to us by our mom and grandmother.  As we celebrate this meal with friends and family, we tell them once again about their grandmothers and grandfathers, reminding them where we came from and who we are.  

My son, Jared, wrote this during his college years.  His assignment was to write a story based upon a memory from his childhood.  It had to be written from a child's perspective and in the language a child would use.  He wrote about his Granny (my grandmother), who was one of the greatest storytellers I ever met.  

 

Granny's Hands

My granny is my grandma's mom.  My grandma died and granny is still alive.  She is really old.  She says sometimes she thinks God forgot about her.  I don't think he did.  He just wanted me to get to know her.  I visit my granny every week.  We sit at her kitchen table, just the two of us.  She drinks her black coffee and her fingers fold her napkin over and over again.  She will tell me stories about what happened a long, long time ago.  I don't tell her that she already has told me this story because she gets happy in her eyes.

I saw a black and white picture of my granny from a long time ago.  She looks the same way back then.  I think she must have always been old.  But that can't be true.  I've seen a REALLY old picture that my mom has where granny has brown hair like us.

Granny has crazy white hair and big bushy white eyebrows.  Her eyes always look like they are dancing.  And her smile is always on her face.  She wears a green house-dress most of the time when I visit.  She shuffles around the kitchen floor wearing the pair of slippers my mom bought her last Christmas.

The thing I like best about Granny is not her stories, because I have heard them all one billion times and I could tell them to her.  The thing I like best are her hands.  They are like two pillows.  On the finger of her right hand she wears a ring that was my grandma's.  On her left hand she she wears the ring she got when she was married. I never met my great grandfather.  I hear he was a bad guy.  He ran out on my granny and left her with three little girls, my mom told me this.  Granny has never said anything but nice things about her bad husband.  I wonder why.

My granny worked in a bakery for forty years.  She worked at night.  She kneaded the dough with her bare hands for all those years.  That's why her hands are so soft and fluffy.  I think she knows I like to play with them because she always puts them in front of her and smiles as she talks, and I listen.

"Grandparents are a family's greatest treasure, the founders of a loving legacy, The greatest storytellers, the keepers of traditions that linger on in cherished memory. Grandparents are the family's strong foundation. Their very special love sets them apart. Through happiness and sorrow, through their special love and caring, grandparents keep a family close at heart." ~author unknown