Hands
As I’ve spent a month getting to know Elliott, I’m constantly amazed. I’m sure all first time parents go through this, but I feel like I spend half of my time with her each day in awe and wonder. I find myself staring and gazing at her, appreciating the miracle that brought Elle into being. It’s magical, awe-inspiring, wonderful and mind-blowing all at once. As my daughter (and an adorable one at that!), I can’t pick a favorite anything, but one of my favorite parts of Elle are her hands. I often find my hands going to hers and thinking deeply as her tiny fingers wrap around my thumb; of all my hopes and dreams for her, I wonder most when holding her hands.
Will her hands play an instrument? Are her long fingers made to play the piano or a guitar? Will they wrap around a microphone, amplifying her voice for the world to hear?
Will her hands be those of a shooting guard like her Mom? Or possibly an outside hitter or a setter? Will they hold a golf club alongside me on the course? Or will those hands be off limits when she’s kicking around a soccer ball ?
Will her hands love the feel of a good book, revering each page that turns to reveal more of the author’s world? Or will those hands take up a pen and paper to create her own worlds?
Will her hands be those of a surgeon, taking scalpel to flesh? Or will they be wrapped around a microscope, looking for the next cure? Or possibly around a book while she teaches?
The possiblities are endless and exciting. I have such high hopes for her life and she’s only five weeks into it. I want her to use her hands in whatever way inspires her. I’m confident she will have an amazing life. And while I know it won’t be forever, I’ll be alongside holding those hands as long as she needs it.
