Daddy’s Hands

As Father’s Day approaches, I have found myself thinking a lot about my daddy. Oh, how I wish he were here.

When I was younger (old enough to be out on my own, with by own family, but a good bit younger than I am now) my daddy had a standing rule at Christmas. “Don’t buy me anything; just make sure you and the kids come to see me,” he would say. For the most part, I followed his instruction. For the most part.

I have written many times about my love of music, and there is a big element of music in this story, as well. Holly Dunn, a Country singer in the 1980s and 1990s, had a song titled “Daddy’s Hands.” The song depicted a young girl who didn’t recognize until she was older just how important her daddy’s hands were.

There was one Christmas when, as a young adult with her own family, I had begun to realize exactly how much my daddy’s hands meant. When I was walking through the mall and saw a framed and autographed copy of Dunn’s song, it was the perfect tribute to my daddy (even if I wasn’t supposed to buy him anything for Christmas!).

“I remember daddy’s hands folded silently in prayer

And reachin’ out to hold me, when I had a nightmare

You could read quite a story in the callous’ and lines

Years of work and worry had left their mark behind

I remember daddy’s hands how they held my mama tight

And patted my back for something done right

There are things that I’d forgotten that I loved about the man

But I’ll always remember the love in daddy’s hands

Daddy’s hands were soft and kind when I was cryin’

Daddy’s hands were hard as steel when I’d done wrong

Daddy’s hands weren’t always gentle but I’ve come to understand

There was always love in daddy’s hands

I remember daddy’s hands workin’ ‘til they bled

Sacrificed unselfishly just to keep us all fed

If I could do things over, I’d live my life again

And never take for granted the love in daddy’s hands

Daddy’s hands were soft and kind when I was cryin’

Daddy’s hands were hard as steel when I’d done wrong

Daddy’s hands weren’t always gentle but I’ve come to understand

There was always love in daddy’s hands”

This Father’s Day, if your daddy is still here, take time to look at his hands. Read the stories in the lines and callouses there, and know that everything he did was for you. If, like myself, you find yourself missing your daddy who has passed away, think of those memories, and cherish every minute of them. Because, no matter what, there is always love in daddy’s hands.