When we were in high school, people admired my cousin's hands. They were small, delicate, and a tad out of place with the rest of her body. They were amazingly feminine hands.
My daughter was born with hands that looked like a frogs front feet. They were all bone and skin, long fingers with great strength. They quickly filled out remaining long and thin, the hands of an artist; hands that are strong and gentle, that give her imagination voice.
The Diva has my hands; she has her dad's hands. Tapered long, and thin... generous palms. hands that make magic, give comfort, play games, create wonders, and build passion.
I love hands. I love the way my daughter's hand fits in mine. Anger, tension, sorrow, and joy, we share everything and maintain a physical connection through our hands. It is as if our hands serve to keep us connected; reminding each that the love remains despite what is happening in our lives or our frustration with one another. our clasped hands keep us firmly attached to reality when emotions or drama or perception attempts to pull us away.
I view holding hands with a man similarly. There is an intimacy there; a connection that establishes a sense of companionship, a camaraderie if you will. It is the rough and the tender, the strong and the delicate, the masculine and the feminine. It is the reminder that one is not alone but that whatever it is that is happening is shared. My hand in his, the fingers entwined - it is the touch that is needed to, as with my daughter, remind everyone that despite the raw feelings and the emotions or the drama, the companionship and closeness remain.
everything is going to be okay.
All for one and one for all.
Of course, there is so much more to a man's hands... *sigh*
I have never given much thought to the message that is sent or received through hand holding. My parents held hands throughout my childhood and only stopped a few years ago when my dad began his struggle with cancer. When they stopped no one needed to tell me that they were entering a new phase of their relationship, their hands said it all. (They are doing well and surviving but cancer is now a part of their marriage which is not easy)
A recent conversation left me wondering if other people have a different notion of hand holding than do I?
For me, it carries intimacy and companionship. For others? For you?