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.
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!
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!
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.
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.
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
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!
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.
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!
Fabulous story! And makes me think of my dear mom and the gifts she passed along. Thank you ❤️
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.
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
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
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.
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 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.
As always you have a beautiful way of expressing yourself.
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