Hands
I read this article about hand-lift procedures in Sunday's "New York Times."
Yes. The metacarpus equivalent of a face-lift. Apparently, blushing brides have taken to seeking plastic surgery for their hands so that those 'wedding ring selfies' reveal only smooth, beautiful skin.
Granted, I am going to be a first-time bride at the youthful age of 48, which I realize, is vastly different than being a bride in my 20s or even 30s. And please know, I do not begrudge the over-the-top-most-amazing-day-of-your-life weddings that young people plan for themselves. I think it's beautiful, and I cry when I get to share those special days with them.
We don't want all that, though. What's important to Bob and me is that we do something that is personally meaningful to us, big or small; that our family is with us when we exchange our vows; and that our family and friends have a blast at a lively, informal celebration afterwards.
Sure we want to have beautiful pictures...but for goodness sake...real pictures.
We took this shot ourselves, and put it on our 2013 Christmas card, as we thought it would be a fun way of "announcing" our engagement.
According to that NY Times article, I should have been more self-conscious about my wrinkles and veins. Don't get me wrong...I did notice them. But it never dawned on me to have them "fixed" so they'd look better for a picture.
I earned every one of those wrinkles.
Those hands...
...pitched Little League games.
...washed dishes at the Country Kitchen when I was just 11.
...did time sampling for research to earn my Ph.D.
...gripped handle bars while I raced bikes as a Velo Bella.
...graded more papers than I can count at this point.
...typed articles for magazines like VeloNews and Shape.
...pet dogs that I adored (Buffy, Salt, Pepper, T-Bone, Bailey, Kezia).
...held onto my big brother's shoulder at the funeral of one of his childhood friends.
...caressed my dad's hair as I cried on his chest and said my final goodbye to his earthly body.
And now, they hold Bob's hands on a daily basis, and remind me that we're together. And will be for a very, very long time.
Hand-lift? I don't need no stinking hand-lift.
P.S. I used a Thesaurus to find "metacarpus."
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment