Susanna, I really love this article so much. It makes me think about my mother, which I do so often, every day, , but I love hearing about your mother and her hands that you inherited! Sadly, my own mother died when she was only 46 and I was 25. You have encouraged me to think about what I might have inherited from her. I inherited her name but not much physically, more to do with personality, probably her sense of humor which has been a huge help!
Despite the short time my mother was in my life, I realize more and more that her influence on me has been extremely important and profound. Of course, life is full of difficulties, insecurities, complications with situations and people but I think that one of the most helpful and valuable things that she gave me to deal with all this has been the confidence to feel comfortable in my own skin. Endless and deepest thanks, Dearest Mum.
Thank you so much, Susanna, for the article that inspired me to consider more deeply what my mother meant to me and what she gave me.
Oh, that's so beautiful Wissie. I think the confidence to feel comfortable in your skin is the greatest gift any parent can give a child. I'm so glad this piece gave you a chance to remember her. xx
Many years ago one of my cousins took notice of hands and said if I ever wanted to see my mom I could just look at my hands. She was right. Mom's gone now, but when I miss her I just look at my hands!
Hi Jan, Thanks so much for writing, and for the kind words. And I'm happy that this brought your grandmother's memory back, it's so grounding to have those elders close.
Hello, Susanna! I'm just a first time reader/subscriber (free variety, for now). I had read some things earlier by you (back when you were at Time??), and just ran across the link to your blog, and wanted to try logging in and reading. Looking forward to reading what you have to say! [Your sunrise photos remind me very much of those I often take, by a local small lake in a nearby park I often visit, here in Wheat Ridge (Denver suburb) Colorado.] Good wishes!
Hey Pete, Welcome to the clan! Happy to have another sunrise person. Send me a photo from your lake! I was a late sleeper till I had kids now even though they're grown, I still wake up early. It's not a bad thing.
I really do love your writing. It's a dauting and terrifying thought that the epic crone may be the ancient and continuing line of mothers. Everyone alive is the success of an incredibly long line of women who were not childless, inheriting and loving as we go. Thank you for your post.
Hi Johnny, First, thanks for the kind words. Agree... I'm sort of joking about the whole crone idea, or that word. But totally serious about reclaiming the wise elder woman, a person for whom wrinkles = stature, and yes thinking about the value of those wise women elders who have held together generations of families.
I am a male and I have noticed that the males in my extended family do share certain traits (I write traits here as I have not found a really correct term). There is practically no smoking in the family and I think this is because Dad was a non-smoker, there was nothing to smoke at home when we grew up. The males are also the handymen at home. But occupation is different. One of my brothers and I are trained engineers, but the others did something different.
My hands are rough and country-looking like my Grandma's were. I am very much like her, too. She passed away on my 30th birthday.
All 3 of my adult daughters, however, have beautiful hands with long, tapered fingers just like THEIR Grandmother, my mother, Ruby, who passed away at age 58 from cancer. Her hands were nothing like her mother, my Grandma, who chopped firewood and for many years cooked on a wood cook stove, plucked chickens, washed clothes with an old wringer washer, and raised too many kids.
Funny how things often skip a generation, for in my family in many ways they did.
Hands, genetically like our grandmother's or not, can often show the story of the life we led. As for me, I say thank you and we miss you both.❤️
Good morning Susanna…what a lovely article. It brought me right back to my mom’s last days and the photo i have of her (ropey) thin hand in mine. And my (ropey) hand in her’s. I got her hands and their thin nails but not her ability to create beautiful things. Like you, my kids have those abilities. And so our Moms live on: forever in our hearts - and hands - and
This story really struck a chord with me - about a year ago as I woke up on a cold winter's morning and struggled to get my fingers moving I looked down at my hands and thought "Oh my God, I now have Nini Doris' hands". My beloved grandmother (on my Dad's side) had severe arthritis in her hands (although it never stopped her from doing anything she put her mind to). Although my situation is far less severe, I see my knuckles enlarging, my fingers aren't quite straight any longer and I find it challenging to grasp a door handle and turn it. She was such a special woman in my life that there is a part of me that is proud to share this connection; she passed in 2001 at the age of 93 and I still miss her. I'd like to think that somewhere in the universe her hands still reach out to hold mine.
Oh Deb, this such a loving snapshot, and described beautifully. It's funny we think about all the things we inherit, the jewelry, the furnishings, the eye color, but these other things, which appear after they're gone... they're also precious.
Thanks so much Eben. And yeah, this is the way of all things. It's sort of like that insurance commercial, we can't stop you from becoming your father.
Susanna, I really love this article so much. It makes me think about my mother, which I do so often, every day, , but I love hearing about your mother and her hands that you inherited! Sadly, my own mother died when she was only 46 and I was 25. You have encouraged me to think about what I might have inherited from her. I inherited her name but not much physically, more to do with personality, probably her sense of humor which has been a huge help!
Despite the short time my mother was in my life, I realize more and more that her influence on me has been extremely important and profound. Of course, life is full of difficulties, insecurities, complications with situations and people but I think that one of the most helpful and valuable things that she gave me to deal with all this has been the confidence to feel comfortable in my own skin. Endless and deepest thanks, Dearest Mum.
Thank you so much, Susanna, for the article that inspired me to consider more deeply what my mother meant to me and what she gave me.
xoxoxo,
Wissie
Oh, that's so beautiful Wissie. I think the confidence to feel comfortable in your skin is the greatest gift any parent can give a child. I'm so glad this piece gave you a chance to remember her. xx
Many years ago one of my cousins took notice of hands and said if I ever wanted to see my mom I could just look at my hands. She was right. Mom's gone now, but when I miss her I just look at my hands!
Oh, that's a lovely Bonita, thank you for sharing.
What a great story to wake up to on what would have been my Grandmother's 122 bd. Thank you for this. I look forward to more.
Hi Jan, Thanks so much for writing, and for the kind words. And I'm happy that this brought your grandmother's memory back, it's so grounding to have those elders close.
Hello, Susanna! I'm just a first time reader/subscriber (free variety, for now). I had read some things earlier by you (back when you were at Time??), and just ran across the link to your blog, and wanted to try logging in and reading. Looking forward to reading what you have to say! [Your sunrise photos remind me very much of those I often take, by a local small lake in a nearby park I often visit, here in Wheat Ridge (Denver suburb) Colorado.] Good wishes!
Hey Pete, Welcome to the clan! Happy to have another sunrise person. Send me a photo from your lake! I was a late sleeper till I had kids now even though they're grown, I still wake up early. It's not a bad thing.
Thanks! Trying to figure our quite how to add a picture.
Just reply to the newsletter email and it'll get to me, or send to: susanna.notjustyou@gmail.com
I really do love your writing. It's a dauting and terrifying thought that the epic crone may be the ancient and continuing line of mothers. Everyone alive is the success of an incredibly long line of women who were not childless, inheriting and loving as we go. Thank you for your post.
Hi Johnny, First, thanks for the kind words. Agree... I'm sort of joking about the whole crone idea, or that word. But totally serious about reclaiming the wise elder woman, a person for whom wrinkles = stature, and yes thinking about the value of those wise women elders who have held together generations of families.
Love that idea!!! ❤️
I needed to mature to appreciate my mom. I now know how lucky I was to be able to appreciate her as a human woman rather than a parental figure.
Thanks! As always. Cal
Hi Cal! Yeah, that's really the ideal. I hope for that with my kids.
I am a male and I have noticed that the males in my extended family do share certain traits (I write traits here as I have not found a really correct term). There is practically no smoking in the family and I think this is because Dad was a non-smoker, there was nothing to smoke at home when we grew up. The males are also the handymen at home. But occupation is different. One of my brothers and I are trained engineers, but the others did something different.
Kwa Tjong-Liem
Hi Kwa Tjong-Liem, agree, it's not just occupation, it's a way of looking at the world, right?
OMG, what a sweet story. ♥️
What a beautiful piece! One of my faves so far. Your Mom's voice comes through so beautifully, and your writing is just gorgeous and so resonant.
Hey Aaron, thank you so so much. xx
What a great story.
My hands are rough and country-looking like my Grandma's were. I am very much like her, too. She passed away on my 30th birthday.
All 3 of my adult daughters, however, have beautiful hands with long, tapered fingers just like THEIR Grandmother, my mother, Ruby, who passed away at age 58 from cancer. Her hands were nothing like her mother, my Grandma, who chopped firewood and for many years cooked on a wood cook stove, plucked chickens, washed clothes with an old wringer washer, and raised too many kids.
Funny how things often skip a generation, for in my family in many ways they did.
Hands, genetically like our grandmother's or not, can often show the story of the life we led. As for me, I say thank you and we miss you both.❤️
Good morning Susanna…what a lovely article. It brought me right back to my mom’s last days and the photo i have of her (ropey) thin hand in mine. And my (ropey) hand in her’s. I got her hands and their thin nails but not her ability to create beautiful things. Like you, my kids have those abilities. And so our Moms live on: forever in our hearts - and hands - and
in our children.
This is such a lovely image, beautifully rendered, Geegee. Thank you so much for sharing it.
This story really struck a chord with me - about a year ago as I woke up on a cold winter's morning and struggled to get my fingers moving I looked down at my hands and thought "Oh my God, I now have Nini Doris' hands". My beloved grandmother (on my Dad's side) had severe arthritis in her hands (although it never stopped her from doing anything she put her mind to). Although my situation is far less severe, I see my knuckles enlarging, my fingers aren't quite straight any longer and I find it challenging to grasp a door handle and turn it. She was such a special woman in my life that there is a part of me that is proud to share this connection; she passed in 2001 at the age of 93 and I still miss her. I'd like to think that somewhere in the universe her hands still reach out to hold mine.
Oh Deb, this such a loving snapshot, and described beautifully. It's funny we think about all the things we inherit, the jewelry, the furnishings, the eye color, but these other things, which appear after they're gone... they're also precious.
As always you have a beautiful way of expressing yourself.
Thanks, Bill for the kind words.
This is beautiful. It made me think of my own mom. Have you read A Short History of Women by Kate Walbert? Would love to see you soon, Wendy
Wendy! Aw, thanks, I haven't read it but now I will. And yes, let's find a warm day sometime soon and have a drink or walk or both. xx
Wonderful. I find that I’m moving more and more like my father. And my mother’s hands were a big topic of discussion.
Thanks so much Eben. And yeah, this is the way of all things. It's sort of like that insurance commercial, we can't stop you from becoming your father.