Hands

your hand is big
your grip, firm
'don't worry' it says
'i'll catch you when you fall'
i look up at you
clasp my hand in yours.
'thanks'

her fingers interlock comfortably
in mine
we walk down the street,
bonded by years of memories.
an unbreakable friendship.
'trust', it sings.

my sister's hand lies limp in mine
surrendered
'what have i done?'
i smile
squeeze her hand tight
'everything'

my mother slips her hand into mine
i nearly jump
her hand is small
her grip, fragile yet firm
'i'm not ready to let you go'
i struggle to grasp this
familiarity, lost, now found
this
confession, so understandable, yet frightening
i want
to fold my fingers over hers
'it's ok, take your time'
but somehow
i let my fingers hang limp
'i know. i wont push you away'
i look down at my feet
see my expressionless fingers sticking out awkwardly.
'not too tight.
you might lose me faster'

my grandmother holds my hand so tight
my fingertips grow numb
'dont let me go
i'm afraid to fall'
i look her in the eye,
and smile.
wrap my fingers firmly over hers
'dont't worry, i'm here.
i'll catch you when you fall'
she began to walk
her grip relaxed a little.
'thanks'
it seemed to say.