Badge of Honor

When I was going through pictures for my children's scrapbooks, my eye caught sight of Mom's hands. There was such a difference in the way they were then compared to how they are now, that it caused me to pause. She complains about her hands often because they have lost their strength and arthritis has twisted them until they can no longer grip very well, pick up small things, or hold the tasteful jewelry that used to adorn them. And then, there is the pain.

Here Mom is holding our youngest in 1986. I had thought of her then as being in her late 50s because she was so active, but now I realize that she was 73! Below, are her hands as they look now, at 95.

As sad as it is to see what havoc can be wrought by a condition such as arthritis and as hard as it is for me to think of going down this same path myself, it occurs to me that there is something more important to remember. Mom used her hands well. She gardened to share beauty, sewed to clothe family and the less fortunate, cooked to nourish us, held, hugged, and cared for babies to give love, shook hands and held hands to create peace, and wrote in order to learn and to send her thoughts to those far away. She used her hands to read to and teach children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren, to bandage and heal the wounds of children and animals, to stroke pets, to bring comfort, to hold rosary beads, receive communion, profess the Sign of the Cross, and to fold in quiet prayer.