Hands

One of the most satisfying and infuriating things about having children is seeing your, and your spouses, physical traits, personality quirks, and character flaws on display in this little person. Whether by nature or by nurture, there they are: his eyes, my temper. His calves, my nose. Oh, and my nail-biting, insomnia, fear of spiders, and test anxiety. Wonderful. Sorry about that, kids.

Sam has inherited his father's hands. 

They seem to be a family trait, BJ having inherited them from *his* father. When I first shook hands with the man who would become my father-in-law, I couldn't help but notice them: Big hands. Big enough to make me feel very small. Fingers long enough to look delicate. Well suited to the man, who has spent his life practicing the art and science of surgery. In both men, they seemed up to the task of holding lives in the balance.

On Sam, those hands are still small enough to fit neatly inside mine, but they carry the promise of strength. He is a thumb sucker. Even in his ultrasound pictures, he was sucking his thumb. As a tiny baby, he would cork his mouth with that little thumb, and spread his fingers all the way out, covering his tiny face. Eventually he learned the more typical "fingers curled into a fist" method. I've always enjoyed seeing him smile with his thumb in his mouth, the single dimple in his right cheek serving as the first clue, and giving him a mischevious air. 

His habit of placing a single index finger to pursed lips and tap-tap-tapping as he considers his juice options never fails to delight me. Such a funny, grown up gesture from such a small person. I catch myself doing the the same thing while looking at things in the store, and laugh to myself. 

This morning, while watching his favorite dinosaur show and cuddling on the couch with me, he took my hand and held it, bouncing our linked fingers on his knee. Then he raised my hand to his lips, and kissed it. 

It took my breath away. It is something his father does. Has always done. The first time was on our first real date, sitting in his Jetta on a cold winter night, looking at the holiday light display at Falls Park, having the most in-depth literary discussion of my life. He did it from his knees, after proposing to me in front of our entire National Guard unit. At the top of the stairs to the banquet room where we would take our vows in front of a small group of loved ones. Standing beside me each time I labored to bring our children into the world. Even just in the car, as we drive into town. It is a casual, intimate, gesture that always seems to shrink the world down to just the two of us. 

Sam smiled up at me, as if he knew this was somehow a big deal to me. He is a bright kid. He notices everything. Dad is pretty much the best person in the entire world, as far as Sam is concerned. And when Dad does this, it makes Mama smile. I told him "Thank you!", gave him a hug and a big kiss. They are always watching. If Sam continues to learn the lessons his father is living for him, there is a little girl out there who will have wonderful future full of love and laughter and fun, and unyielding support in the hardest times.