Welcome to Marmee's Pantry

Welcome to Marmee's Pantry

Friday, March 12, 2010

Daddy's Hands

My Daddy died on June 3, 1999 and I can’t believe that it’s been so long since I’ve held his hands. My family has a tradition of taking pictures of our loved ones in their casket; I took a picture of my Daddy’s hands. Oh, how I miss their touch, because my Daddy loved me with those hands.

My Daddy’s hands were the hardest working hands I’ve ever known, but my Daddy’s hands were also the most beautiful hands I’ve ever seen on a man. No matter how hard he worked, at the end of the day his hands would always be clean and his nails clipped. My Daddy loved me with those hands.

My Daddy’s left hand happily wore his wedding ring for just days shy of 51 years. My Daddy’s hands could produce some of the most beautiful woodwork and macrame' you ever saw and my Daddy’s hands could fix anything. My Daddy loved me with those hands.

My Daddy’s hands cuddled and loved me as a weak, sick little surviving twin baby. My Daddy’s hands turned countless pages in bedtime storybooks and could give the very best knee rubs in the middle of the night when growing pains would hit. My Daddy loved me with those hands.

My Daddy’s hands could do tricks and play games. My Daddy’s hands could spank, shame and scold me when I needed it. My Daddy loved me with those hands, too.

My Daddy’s hands comforted me when bullies bothered me at school. My Daddy’s hands comforted my broken teenage heart; many times. My Daddy loved me with those hands.

My Daddy’s hands applauded me at tap dance recitals, band concerts and when I would sing. My Daddy loved me with those hands.

My Daddy’s hands slipped my hand into my husband’s hand when he gave me away. My Daddy’s hands comforted my husband and I when our first daughter died. And my Daddy’s hands loved and played with our two other daughters. My Daddy loved us with those hands.

And then, on that sad day when all the machines were silent, I was holding my Daddy’s hand as he left us and went to stand before the Lord. My Daddy’s hands loved me to the last.

A daddy’s hands are the most expressive, tangible way that a father can show his love for his family. I wish all fathers had hands like my Daddy. My Daddy loved me with those hands.

Blessings from Ohio, Kim<><


  1. oh Kim, I'm crying :) What a beautiful tribute to your father! What a wonderful Dad you had!

  2. what a great post. My daddy died June 15, 1994 and I so remember his touch and his love. What a legacy and memories to leave daughters!

  3. That was beautiful! You were blessed.

  4. Oh, Kim, I can barely see to type through the tears flowing freely down my face. My heart goes out to you as you miss your Daddy...I know we've said this many times to one another, but I'll say it once again...if we lived close to one another we'd surely be fast fast friends because of all we have in common. Praying for you now as you miss your Daddy...especially as your Momma is beginning to live in the world of dementia. Hugs to you, my friend and sister.

  5. I'm crying as much now as I was when I read this beautiful tribute to your daddy last March, Kim. I have been missing my daddy a lot lately, too.

    Hugs to you, my sweet sweet friend,


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