She said, "I'll always hold your hand, Mommy, no matter how old I am."
My heart melted at that very moment. I knew that one day, she'd hit the age where it just wasn't as "cool" to walk around, holding my hand, but in the meantime, I cherished it.
Then, the moment came when we no longer held hands. There was no premeditated warning....it just happened, one day, without notice.
My heart moved on, although, never forgetting the joy of what it was like to have a hand to hold.
One day, J and I were walking, hand in hand. As we climbed the stairs, I stumbled. Quicker than I could catch myself, J tightened his grip and broke my fall. I found that moment once again. I discovered that holding one's hand is like holding one's heart. He tenderly held mine and still does...when we pray, when we fall asleep at night, when we are in church, worshiping together, sitting side by side, cheering the Oregon Ducks on to victory and sitting across the table, sharing a milkshake...we're holding each others hearts and hands.
At a time when I'm totally reminded of thankfulness, I'm thankful for the big things, like having a job after being unemployed for 2 years. I'm thankful for new beginnings and mischievous puppies. I'm thankful for silly songs sung on my voice mail and warm blankets fresh from the dryer. But most of all, I'm thankful for a hand to hold.
What are you thankful for?