A closer look

An indentation marks the ring finger of my left hand. No surprise, that finger wore the wide gold ring for over 14 years. Now I can see a quite prominent scar, a raised diagonal line, that was hidden. It's been there far longer, and will remain after the indentation goes. I was two and on a road trip with my grandparents. Pop Pop would be dead a year later. I cried the whole trip. Pictures of me crying, wearing Pop Pop's white T-shirt, are brought out when I visit Gan. We were in a car accident. Glass went into my eyes. Only my hands were scarred. Left ring finger. Right index. Right middle.

Along the outside tip of my right pinky, another long scar. Ripped it open years ago, in my mother-in-law's basement, on a metal clasp. Felt it open, couldn't stand to look at it. I covered it with my left hand and ran up the stairs, yelling to my husband, "Help me! Help me! Help me!"

In my mouth, my fingers are salty and sweet for one brief moment before the taste fades.

My hands are small. Strong. The nails grow fast and almost never break, except under extreme duress. At those times, I overreact in dismay. The nails remain unpainted, white, oval shaped, about a quarter inch above the quick. Useful for opening packages. People put their own hands out quickly, saying, "get a knife!" I'd rather use my nails. Useful, too, for scratching backs or smoothing back hair from a loved one's scalp. Or holding, caressing, squeezing a loved one's larger hand. The most soothing moments in my lifetime came from that movement.

I've long since lost the calluses on my left hand fingers from the violin strings.

The skin on the backs of my hands is soft and supple. Pale. On my palm, smooth and drier. Which is the life line? The love line? I never learned. They do cross. Looking closer, though, the skin is not smooth, at all. The millions of tiny creases and whorls start to look ridiculous, the knuckles quite embarrassing. Little cuts here and there are always present, a small burn today, as well, because my hands are strong and perform their varied work without thanks or care -- good little soldiers.