Daddy’s Hands

This song has always been able to bring me to tears in a matter of seconds.

I remember daddy’s hands
folded silently in prayer.
And reachin’ out to hold me,
when I had a nightmare.
You could read quite a story
in the callous’ and lines.
Years of work and worry
had left their mark behind.

I remember daddy’s hands
how they held my mama tight.
And patted my back
for something done right.
There are things that I’d forgotten
that I loved about the man.
But I’ll always remember
the love in daddy’s hands.

Daddy’s hands were soft and kind
when I was cryin’.
Daddy’s hands were hard as steel
when I’d done wrong.
Daddy’s hands weren’t always gentle
but I’ve come to understand.
There was always love in daddy’s hands.

I remember daddy’s hands
workin’ ’til they bled.
Sacrificed unselfishly
just to keep us all fed.
If I could do things over,
I’d live my life again.
And never take for granted
the love in daddy’s hands.

Questions without answers

I had a conversation with a friend a few months ago about a particular event in my life that took place many moons ago. Very few people know about this because I don’t feel comfortable talking about certain aspects of my life. I’m an intensely private person and only let people in so far. So for me to even talk about this for a few minutes was strange.

Anyways, my friend brought it up, and after a few brief minutes of talking about it I said it was time to change the topic. My friend looked at me and said, “Ah, you have regrets now?”

And I thought about it for a second and though do I regret it? Do I honestly think I made the wrong choice? And you know what? The answer was a resounding no. It really was the smartest decision I made back then.

I’ve learned that to have regrets for me means to spend too much time dwelling on the past. Everything in my life is a stepping stone and a learning experience. How can you regret something that teaches you how strong you are? That you can deal with anything and pick up and continue moving on?

On that note, this year has been a lesson in pain and inner strength. It’s also opened my eyes to the fact that I’m not as tough as I would like to be. When Percy (the man across the hall from me) literally died in front of me last month, to say that I was upset is an understatement. I did learn though that when tragedy strikes I turn into the “strong one” or “the heavy” as my family calls it. Only one person can break down at a time and I needed to be strong for John (Percy’s wife) as they fought to save her husband’s life. When the ambulance was gone however I was a wreck. I have no shame in admitting I had a bit of a breakdown and successfully fought off another panic attack.

That stress, and the stress of my dad’s death, came roaring back tenfold though when Bill (a friend of the family) passed away suddenly (about 2 weeks after Percy died). I saw him at 7 pm on a Wednesday night and by 10 we were being told he died. I couldn’t fight off the attack that time and found myself a bit of a mess. Here’s the strange part. When I woke up I was feeling numb but refreshed. Does that make sense?

Can you feel numb but refreshed and alive? Can you make a decision that has serious consequences whichever way you decide and not have regrets? Can you be content with your life but contemplate making a big decision just to shake things up some? Is it possible to ever feel truly satisfied with your life?

Or, is it possible that I’m thinking too much?