These Damn Blessed Hands

excerpt from A Brave Lament Book
©abravelament 2017 all rights reserved

It is so hard to think of his sweet body in the ground, many days I have to convince my hands not to dig him back up, even for a moment, just one more moment to hold him.

These damn hands, you are the hands that only held him tightly for those few precious hours, you are the condemned hands that gave him away to the nurse that dark midnight,

You cursed hands, you are the ones that picked up the dirt over and over and over again, you are the ones who opened up wide to drop the earth on him.

These beautiful hands that would have and did care for him so softly,

These blessed hands that held his sweet face, and his brave little-broken body so honorably,

These reverent hands that honored my son by courageously placing him in the ground, by covering him so gently,

Oh, these fortunate hands which held him so tightly for far far too short of time.

I could hold you forever and it would still not be enough.

I love my hands, for they touched glory.

By | 2017-11-16T02:31:47+00:00 November 16th, 2017|Death, Grief, Healing, Loss|Comments Off on These Damn Blessed Hands

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