Hands

There is something about hands.  They are so distinct.  I feel like if you know someone, you know their hands.  You know the length of their fingers.  You know how they keep their nails.  You can picture them in your head. 

The other day we were at lunch with Ryan's family.  Ainsley was fascinated with Great Grandma's hands.  It was like she was memorizing them.  Maybe Ainsley knows deep down that Great Grandma, who is 91, won't be with us forever.  Maybe she was taking that mental snapshot. 

 
Or maybe she was just being a 2 year old interested in why Great Grandma's hands have so many wrinkles and bumps. 

Either way, the snap shot is not only here now, but it's in my head.  It will stay there forever because I love both of these people that belong to these hands.