My father’s hands.
They’ve changed thru the years.
Represented different things.
Childhood, the Superhero.
Big and strong, capable of making anything.
Instilled love and warmth.
Also caution and respect. Even fear.
Conflicting emotions
Never sure what to expect.
You always knew you were loved
But you never wanted to disappoint.
Teenage years, still larger than life.
Two sides of that coin.
Hardly ever felt or seen.
Though thought about every day.
Who’s truth do you believe?
Reconcile the words and deeds.
Believe what you live.
Not what you are told.
Adult now, my own hands so similar.
He’s no longer quite so larger than life.
Scarred, he has so many stories still to tell.
Back to superhero status?
Like father like daughter, we are friends now.
Things gone wrong on both sides.
Mistakes made and learned from.
Time has past, forgiven and forgot.
My father’s hands.
The hands that once held me.
I now hold in my own.