Life is about hands.**

It is about you
Staring at them
Tired but joyful
While your first child lays in your arms
Sleeping and closing a fist around your index.

It is about you
Staring at them
After you hurried into hospital
Holding your mothers hands
And begging her to stay.

It is about you
Staring at them
Trying to keep them still
Yet all they do is shake
And you don't know why
Because  you aren't even nervous.

It is about you
Staring at them
While you introduce yourself to some teenagers
Who are baffled and tell you that they already know you
Because they are your grandchildren
And you try to remember their names.

It is about you
Staring at them
Before you place them around your own neck
Wishing it would be easy to **** yourself
Because the pain is so hard to stand
And you have become so weak.

And it is about your children
Staring at their own hands
While they hold yours
Which are no longer warm and full of life
But cold and stiff.
And they wish they wouldn't hold them for the last time.