Like the Back of My Hand

How well do you really know the back of your hand?

I know a lot of things about my husband after 31 years of marriage. You might say I know him like the back of my hand. But apparently, one thing I don’t know about him is actually… the back of his hand.

We were sitting in a restaurant recently, fingers laced together per our usual habit while waiting for our meal. I glanced down at our joined hands and noticed a dark mark near his knuckle. “Where did you get that?” I asked.

“I’ve always had it,” he replied.

“Really?” I asked. “I’ve never noticed it.”

We went on to enjoy our dinner, but the exchange chafed at me. I’ve always considered myself an observant person. I notice things, remember things. How could I have missed that mark on the back of my husband’s hand? You’d think I’d know every inch of a hand I’ve spent more than three decades holding.

No need for guilt

But then I realized there’s no need for guilt. I do know a lot about his hands. There’s a scar at the base of his thumb from colliding with a plate glass door as a kid. Another marks the finger he nearly severed fixing a stuck blade on the hay mower. One knuckle has a callus from holding surgical instruments; his palm has three more from lifting weights. And the tips of his pinkie fingers are crooked, about 25 degrees from vertical, same as his mom’s.

I have also seen my husband’s hands in action. I’ve watched them play tug with a new puppy, and tried not to look as they tossed a shrieking child into the air. Those hands have washed cars, painted walls, and killed spiders. The fingers have been pinched, scraped, and dislocated in service to family chores and household emergencies. (I’ve also threatened to dislocate those same fingers when they’ve pinched the cookie dough or scraped through the bowl of frosting.)

Actions say it all

It’s a cliché that actions speak louder than words. But it is also the truth. Ben Franklin says “Well done is better than well said,” and he wasn’t talking about steaks on the grill. Although I have to say, my husband does grill a phenomenal steak. But I digress.

A person’s hands can express more compassion and caring than the most elegant of speeches. The same hands that brace unsteady toddlers learning to walk also support unsteady parents who have forgotten how. They touch a cheek, pat a back, and hold a hug longer than necessary. And they fold in prayer for those they love, and just as often for those they don’t even know.

Perhaps that’s the best view to really get to know the back of your hand.