Holding Hands

Flower decided she needed a nap today as we were being escorted around town in the back of the van. She had tucked her hand into my coat pocket but I took it out and held hands with her as she dozed off, rewarded with on of her dimpled and darling smiles. We've done this for years. Held hands as she's napped, as we've walked, watched videos and read stories. A simple gesture of love and friendship. Little to big. Heart to heart.

Our family watched ToyStory 3 together a couple of nights ago. Towards the end, just when Woody and Buzz and their compatriots think they are doomed, they, one by one, grab hold of each other's  hands. Death is easier to face when connected with friends. Beautifully captured, animated poetry by Pixar.

One of the last recordings transmitted from the Challenger, just before it went down was, "Oh no! Here, take my hand." A touching gesture of humanity in the face of the inevitable.

At Dad's viewing, after I had gone to the bathroom to have a full blown, mascara-burn cry, my nephew Dan, all 6 feet 5 inches of him, came over to where I'd sat in the back of the room,  locked onto my hand with his huge paw and just sat with me. Both of us, hand-locked, not saying much. Connected by loss and the holding of hands.

In life and loss, hands connect.