The Hands That Soothe Me

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Looking at her hands, they don’t seem like much.  They are weathered and wrinkled with age.  Their appearance is dainty, almost fragile now.  I have never known her hands to be naked, always adorned with cheap, fashion jewelry, usually from Avon.  A simple glance gives you no indication of the strength or experience behind them.  They are not professionally trained, but these are the hands that have given me the most peace throughout my life.  These are my Grandmother’s hands.I doubt my grandmother could name the muscles or bones in the body.  She certainly had no idea what a Swedish or deep tissue massage was.  Her touch not only provided solace, but provided me with the first experience with touch as being therapeutic and nurturing.During my early childhood, I was raised by a different family; a family where touch was mostly negative and not healthy.  Due to some crazy circumstances, my Chavez family was brought into my life and I have never looked back.  My Grandmother accepted me without any questions and never treated me like an outsider.  She showed her love physically with hugs, goosing our hiney, and giving us little massages.  Massage in the most simple and pure form, full of love, tenderness, and a desire to just make us feel better.  I can't begin to count the amount of times her touch brought peace to my mind and body.  Visits home from college, stressful days of school or work, or just my weary body from a day of traveling across the country to visit home.It doesn’t matter how old I get, I’m in my late 30’s, and still found myself sitting at my grandmother’s feet and placing my head in her lap while I was visiting her last month.  Just the proximity seems like a gift and brings comfort to my body and my mind.  I also know that if I sit there long enough, I’ll get a little massage.  Usually it starts at the top of my head and proceeds down to my neck, shoulders, and upper back.  Every once in a while when she would find “a knot”, she would dig right in and giggle a little when I squirmed under her strength.  The tension in my body would melt beneath her touch, and my mind would settle.  Aches and pains would simple dissolve.During my last visit with her, I realized how much I learned from her through touch.  How indirectly, she influenced my decision to become a massage therapist by instilling how a positive touch can impact a person’s life.   While my intent while giving a massage may not be the same as my grandmother’s, there is a power in touch.  I’m not sure why I never realized this before; I guess we take our family and their influence for granted sometimes.**** Author’s note.  Just 3 weeks after my last visit home, my Grandmother passed away.  While I had been thinking about this epiphany during that trip, I had not finished this before she passed.  My heart felt gratitude goes to my clients that have been more than caring and understanding while I needed to take time for my family.In the photo, my GG is standing next to my nephew that was 10 years old at the time.#3 of 31 in the August blogging challenge.

UncategorizedRianne