Ah-ma’s Hands

Tonight, I allowed my mind to drift a little…and it brought me back to my childhood memories, largely of my grandma, or “Ah-ma” as we usually call her.

She was the one who put my siblings and I to sleep, counting sternly, “1-2-3, sleep!” and all eyes MUST be shut…and she was the one who taught me to pluck beansprouts nicely, all the time sharing with me her stories on the Japanese occupation days and on how we must work very hard and get a good job when we grew up. Her steamed fish with sliced ginger was always one of my favorite dishes, and she would always get praises for her curry chicken dish.

When we’re watching tv., she’ll sometimes show me her hands with pride, beaming about how red and healthy it looks, all the while encouraging me to eat better so that I can have strong, healthy hands like hers too. I kid you not, her hands are still looking bright and healthy, even at her age.

One day, I know all of this will just be memories of the past…and so I treasure, and hold so dearly, every moment that I get to chat and eat with her. Every little bit of memory I have of our time together…it’s precious. And I rest too, knowing that though she does not stay with us now, our good God is taking great care of her.

I looked at my hands today, and it’s still nothing like hers.

But I know and remember the love she envelopes me with, every time she rubs my hands with hers to give me warmth.

And that, is a memory worth holding close to my heart.

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