My mother's hands

 I have become obsessed with my mother's hands and particularly her fingernails.

Strange I think because she's never been one to have professional manicures.  She kept her nails short and wore no polish for most of our lives.

I do know that almost 80 years ago (August 5, 1942) she did have red nails.  Her nails are painted now.  Not red - but some polish and they are long.  I trimmed them but I'm no manicurist.

I kept wondering why this is so important to me.

And then I remembered.  Years ago mother told my sister, Cindy, and me that she didn't want us to take care of her personal needs when she was no longer able to.  She wanted us to come to see her - and "do her nails".

And so because there appears to be nothing I need to do for her now -- I guess I've zoomed in on her nails.  Now don't get me wrong - they really did need attention.  Thankfully, my cousin, Evalyn Campbell was with me and she used the light on her phone to help as I clipped.  They look better - but certainly not as nice as in the photo below.

These hands are those of hers and her four sisters.  I'm pretty sure the hand with the painted nails is  Aunt Carolyn's.  The one with no ring is Aunt Thelma - the photo was taken just before she passed.  

Mother has told me that when our grandma Nesmith was about to go to Heaven, Cindy sat with her and talked with her about her hands - and how they had cared for so many over the years.

Like their mother, Iva Pauline Mercer Nesmith, our mother, and her sisters have used their hands to care for others as well.  

A couple of years after daddy passed mother saw a notice about an art class at Mandarin Presbyterian Church.  She had done some acrylic painting in the 80's.  This was simpler - colored pencils.  So she found a friend who wanted to go to the class - and off she went.  For the next five years, she could often be seen with a drawing pad and a box of pencils.  I now have several binders that hold some of her work.  

On the left is my favorite.

However, to the right is the one    that I think aptly describes Iva Louise Nesmith Huffingham as our mother.  Far from her best and yet the four of us believe that it's her greatest contribution as our mother. Even when I see her lying in the bed sleeping her way into Heaven I have no doubt but that she is praying for us.  

I remembered a quote that sang the praises of a mother who offered wealth and riches and ended "but I had a mother who read to me".  I'd like to change the last line -- "we had a mother who prayed for us".   We are indeed blessed!

And we thank you for praying  - for her - and for us!

May your life have enough sunshine

                                                             To make you appreciate the shadows