We're just hanging out. He was just checking out my new MacBook making sure I had the proper security, firewalls, McAfee...blah, blah,blah.
As we were sitting, waiting for my computer to load I noticed his hands. His Polish hands. What makes them Polish? Well the palms are rounder like a little kids and the fingers are a bit stockier. Looking at his hands I realized...I have his thumbs and his palms!
The other things I noticed of course were the calloused nail beds and uneven edges. How beautiful are my dad's Polish hands? I started to realized how hard those hands have worked for my brothers and I. Everyday for the last 25+ years like a machine he gets up at 5:15am, washes his face, eats his oatmeal (thanks Dr. Mahlay!) and drives off to first shift at General Motors. Dealing with English as a second language and not to mention dealing with the politics of working at a place like GM, unions and all.
Man, my dad could've bailed a long time ago. Between my one brother's drug addiction, to another's being out of town while my dad went through chemo and from me not finishing college. He stuck by us and got up everyday at 5:15am.
Just looking and those sweet, hard-working, Polish hands makes me feel so protected and safe.
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