Thursday, 09 October 2008
The Grip
By Ken Mitchell
Seventy-six years ago today, my grandmother pried open the fists of her newborn to study her thin, delicate fingers. It’s how one explores a valuable gift. Handling is careful and the scrutiny is experienced from different lights and angles. This new treasure was perfect and her tiny grip was firm as if holding a secret yet to be revealed.
My grandmother could not have known what mysteries were held in the wet clutch. Time bore witness to her destiny, for her tight grasp would anchor her first steps, and later protest an injustice. Her light touch would snuggle a kitten and form a letter and even soothe a heart while floating along an ivory keyboard. Her capable hands would protect her offspring for three generations and host a spot for a nibble when there were no words. I know they touched me many times, even today when I sang the old birthday tune. It’s what happens automatically without thought, except this time her tight awkward fist would not obey because of the cruel stroke.
And so one hand freely expresses and the other tightly holds a secret again. When I try to pry it open for clues, I notice it is moist like her eyes. It must have been the same for my grandmother for who would have believed we would share the wonder of this moment so many years apart. Except this time, it may be saying goodbye.
October 9, 2007
[EDITORIAL NOTE: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. Instructions are here.]
Posted by Ronni Bennett at 05:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post
Comments
A moving story on the life of a beloved woman from birth to a probable death. You captured so much and told it well.
Posted by: Darlene on Oct 9, 2008 9:39:55 AM
Wow! Seems to capture the joy and sadness of life in one swoop.
Excellent!
Posted by: James J Henry Jr on Oct 9, 2008 3:07:29 PM
So sad.
Posted by: kenju on Oct 9, 2008 3:27:14 PM
Ah, Ken, what a delicately told story of the great circle of life. I particularly liked the way you tied the moments at beginning of life and close to end with the hand symbolism. How appropriate for a fine surgeon such as yourself.
Posted by: Elizabeth (Beth) Westmark on Oct 15, 2008 7:32:35 PM
