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Your Spouses Hands

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Hello all,

I am still in a Grief Group. One of our assignments was to write about our spouses hands. Some of it found it a real good thing to do. It was hard. Here is mine...


My hand fit into his looking so small. One would think his hands would be rough with all the different kinds of work he did. His palms had hard calluses on them from the hoses he pulled off and on his truck after fertilizing the many yards for years. His hands amazingly were so soft. Rick was compulsive about hand lotion. He had some in his office,truck, car, and bedroom and on top of the fridge. It would be no less than 10 times a day he would put lotion on his hands and face. His hands had a few nicks and cuts from all the fabrication and welding or grinding he did on his projects for his business.

His hands had the smell of gas, oil, grease, chemicals and nicotine. You would see always see Rick with a cigarette in one hand and a coffee in the other unless of course it was later in the day and then it would be a cigarette, beer or Cesar,

When we were younger we would go to the Cadillac Hotel. Rick liked to play pool. I would watch him looking for a shot to take. I watched his hands. The one not holding the pool stick would be quickly fluttering his thumb over his fingers. That's how he concentrated.

The best was just holding hands. They were strong and warm. Just a simple gesture but it always made me feel special. The last time I held his hands they were cold but still soft. I miss Rick's hands.

Mrs. B

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His hands were big...and mine so small. When we got married we had to special order custom wedding bands because we were both on opposite ends of the spectrum an they didn't stock those sizes.

His hands were always holding mine, our way of connecting. His hands were used to protect others...he hated fighting, but a couple of times he did to protect someone else who was getting hurt...one of those times he suffered permanent damage in his hand, so much so, he had to learn to write using different fingers from then on. His hands worked hard and bore the scars from it...they always had callouses from welding. When he was out of work, his hands were soft. I used to clean them up, trim his cuticles, his nails, and slather them in healing lotion so they wouldn't hurt so much. I love his hands...they bore his wedding band. I kissed them often.

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When Scott was on life support, and his body failing, his hands were still him. I held them a lot. They were my last physical connection to him.


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All so beautiful to read; and Korina,you are so right, the hands were probably the last physical contact we all had.

Lars had a cleft in his forehead that I said he got from worrying. I used to smooth it out and called it his "brow-frow' .Don't know where that came from, but that is one of the things of Lars that I miss most.

Hugs to all,


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My husband was a landscaper, his hands were always rough, cut up and scarred. They were very large, the thumb nails were dented from fiximg equipment. They often smelled like cleanser. He loved this almond soap I would buy because it had bits of almond shell that would help exfoliate the skin and remove the grease without chemicals.

We loved to go for walks, always holding hands. I wasn't with Mark when he died. I would have loved to hold his hands one last time. I never thought he'd die. I truly believed we would be together until we were old.

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