I remember Daddy's hands folded silently in prayer and reaching out to hold me when I had a nightmare. You could read quiet a story in the callouses and lines. Years of work and worry had left their mark behind.
I remember Daddy's hands, how they held my Mama tight and patted my back for something I'd done right. There are things I've forgotten that I loved about that man, but I'll always remember the love in Daddy's hands.
Daddy's hands, were soft and kind when I was crying. Daddy's hands, were hard as steel when I'd done wrong. Daddy's hands weren't always gentle, but I've come to understand, there was always love in Daddy's hands.
I remember Daddy's hands working till they bled, sacrificed unselfishly just to keep us all fed. If I could do things over, I'd live my life again, and never take for granted the love in Daddy's hands.