Daddy's hands
About the article
This is a digitised version of an article from The Cayman Compass's print archive. Occasionally, the digitisation process introduces transcription errors, or other problems.
See the article in its original context from June 2000.
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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. I DON'T REMEMBER DADDY'S HANDS BLEEDING, BUT MY EARLIEST MEMORIES ARE OF HIS HANDS. WHEN I WAS A BABY, I WAS TERRIFIED OF SIRENS. FORTUNATELY, THERE WEREN'T MANY SIRENS DURING THE NIGHT.
HOWEVER, WHEN THERE WERE, MY DADDY WOULD COME INTO MY BEDROOM AND PUT HIS HAND UNDER MY FACE AND I WOULD GO BACK TO SLEEP ON DADDY'S HAND. HIS HANDS WERE BEAUTIFUL, STRONG YET TENDER. I AND MY SISTER ALWAYS WISHED WE HAD INHERITED DADDY'S LONG, SLENDER FINGERS.
DADDY WAS MY ROCK, MY HERO.
