H is for Hands


One of the most memorable moments of my life was being present for the birth of my first granddaughter, Kimberly Louise, in 1995.

Seeing my own daughter give birth to her daughter was awesome, but the very very best part happened about ten minutes later.

Daughter Heather still had post-birth work to do and she called for new dad Tony to come be with her, meaning I got to hold the new born Kimmy. There was a rocking chair in the room. While we sat together and rocked, she grabbed my finger. Ten minutes old and she grabbed my finger.

I know babies do this all the time, but this was MY granddaughter and, therefore, very different and special. Instant bonding. Instant love.

This picture was taken after Kimmy went home. Her little hand in mine. I love it.

I had a mouse pad made from this picture and used it at work for years until the picture wore off.


It was almost ten years later before I was grandma a second time. Granddaughter Sydney Anne was born to my son John and his wife Anne 2000 miles away in Idaho.

I missed the birth, but four weeks later I flew west to meet my new granddaughter.

As you can see, the meeting was a success. Sydney decided her paternal grandmother was OK and gave me the sealing finger hug on our relationship.


Last August I had the pleasure of bringing Kimmy on her first plane trip.

Two of the most important people in my life met for the first time.

The tanned hands of nine year old Kimmy held the baby pink hands of four month old Sydney and declared her an OK cousin.


Writing from Idaho where I'm having a wonderful time with the one year old hands of Sydney Anne.