Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Fingers and Toes

There are things that happen when a child is born - things that are seared into your whole being and can never be forgotten.  Perhaps after a few decades they have taken on a life of their own - larger than life almost, in the form of a teeny, tiny perfectly formed being.  There is the first cry of a newborn, so familiar but so unique.  And seeing as newborn tear ducts don't produce tears yet, his parents supply them - happy tears, startled tears, overwhelming overwhelmed tears.  There are snuggles and sighs from the two generations immediately represented, but it doesn't stop there.  Now I know what Granma laughing tears feel like as well.

There are the comparisons - mouth and eyes and nose - as they relate to Mom and Dad and siblings.  There is the straining to see similarities that won't truly develop for years to come, but the start is there, or so we imagine.

I'm a finger and toes person, myself.  Curled up, wrinkly toes and long slender fingers with perfectly formed nails.  It's a little slice of heaven on earth to watch those tiny digits relax in sleep, allowing a really good look at the newest family member.  Babies are wonderful.  Birth is a miracle!

There are two sets of 10 perfectly forms grand digits in the family that I never got to view in miniature.  They belong to my Bella.  Of course, there were many who teared up at her birth.  Hours spent reveling in the beauty of her delicate features from her earliest days.  But I wasn't one of them.  Bella didn't burst into my world until she was five.  She is seven now.

Just last week, though, I got to do something I would have done naturally if we had met seven years earlier - I got to study her fingers.  And I got to do something that I have never done before:  I painted another person's fingernails!  I'm not particularly good at painting my own nails, but at least I know when to expect a zig or a zag in my movements and correct the angle of the brush accordingly.  Bella and I are not quite so symbiotic.  What I lacked in accuracy, I did my best to wipe off with my own finger and nail.  In the end, we admired ten near perfect and 100% adequately pink trimmed fingers.  There were also spots of pink on a paper towel, my fingers and Bella's knee.  Bella gets credit for the latter.

I got to really study her hands up close and personal for the first time.  They are perfectly formed and quite expressive (hence, in part, the splatters of pink in the various locations).  I didn't cry.  Nor did she.  In fact, there was much laughter.  I think that means the manicure was a success!  It was for me, anyway, though I don't see a career change coming my way.

I didn't get a picture of those 10 perfect fingers, pretty in pink.  And the toe model above belong to a grandboy of mine.  But look at her fingers.  Even without paint, they are indeed perfect!  I love you, Bella!

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