Your hand in mine*May 24, 2013
Many hands got me here—the knotted hands of strong grandmothers, my parents’ devoted hands, the compassionate friends who lifted me when I stumbled over imperfect ground.
My own hands have gathered experiences, made unexpected choices, written down stories I hope to tell for years. They remember the feel of my palm against your cheek for the first time, when the small fist of my heart began to release, finger by finger.
Here, today, the only hand that matters is yours in mine as we walk, together, into our next adventure.