Posted in loss / death, love, original, Relationship

Hands

I remember…..

He was a tall man with a big built

He reminded me of a well built building

I was too young to know, what struggles he went through

In my father’s eyes he was the strict parent,

In mine he was a gentle giant.

I can’t remember if I hugged him enough

Or told him I loved him

But I have fond memories of him, no matter how few.

He didn’t speak much but he gave me boundless unspoken love.

He had big hands

Huge!

They were hard working hands

They were also the one’s that disciplined my dad

But those same hands guarded me and I remember they were rough but gentle.

Those hands, they guided me more than I ever would have thought.

Author:

A story teller, a writer, and sometimes, a poet.

2 thoughts on “Hands

    1. Glad to hear he’s still around. I just missed my grandad and got to writing with this.

      Thank you for reblogging and for the comment 😊

      Like

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