Hands. Plans. Finger faces. Memes. Marcel the Shell. Thumbing a ride. Swearing with no words. We do know sign language.
Magna Carta. A manifesto. Main – french for hand. Main characters in our lives. Subservient to the actions we wish to carry out. Pen grasped loosely. Mr Sketch. Toucan Sam. Colourful characters from childhood. Follow your nose. A risky adventure in a jungle.
Grasping. Reaching. Curtailing. Nonsense. Forever. Wrists twisting. Knuckles cracking. Nail beds show crescent moons.
“Push your cuticles back”, he said. I’m not really sure why. To stop hangnails maybe. To show the crescent moons on your thumbs. So particular about certain things – yet absolutely oblivious to others.
Brushing his teeth – check.
Trimming his nails – check.
Cleaning behind his ears – check.
Finishing the fat and gristle off our plates – ok…
Drinking red wine and scotch every night… ok.
Dusting – LOL.
Checking his spots for cancer – only if he really had to.
I didn’t see my Dad cry often. But when he did it was a full body cry – when he had to sell our cabin on Galiano, when our dog died….
where rivers are born 