Some nights I stretch my arms up the ceiling and flex my fingers and the first thing that always pops into my head?
"I wish my fingers weren't so fat"
And I always mentally roll my eyes at myself with that remark, because at the end of the day who really cares what their fingers look like, as long as they work, am I right? But I love the thoughts that follow because instead of watching myself dig down deeper into the "fat" pit [or whatever pit I might be trying to dig myself into that day, whether it be "fat" or just plain old "sadness"] instead I hear my second thought come just as quickly:
"I love that they work" & right after that "I love that they're held" because one of my favorite things about being in a relationship with my Jonathan is holding his hand and how when we reach his driveway and start walking to my car in the dark, I can reach out my hand and know that his is already waiting for mine.
"I love that they've always been held" 
My parents flippin CARE about me y'all. Your parents probably care about you, too. I know that they held my hand to cross the street, and in the store so I wouldn't get lost, and especially in the ocean so I wouldn't be scared of being swept under and away. Little things maybe, but so many kids do not have anyone like that in their lives.
"It's so cool how much they can DO, like crocheting and drawing and smoothing back someone's hair in a loving way. And I love that they're not forced to do anything." I don't have to support my family in a sweatshop. In an assembly line. I don't have to physically work to find scrap metal, load it onto a truck, and try and sell it to a scrap yard. 
"I love that if I want them to, they can reach down and grab my feet, and my feet will feel them." For part of my childhood my close friend's stepfather was in a wheelchair, paralyzed from his torso down. This came after a shooting because of road rage, and I will always remember a year before the accident, watching him and his wife dance at their wedding. Being apart of that and watching a family go through something so jarring will have a lasting impact on you, and for me...well I'm thankful that my feet can feel the hardwood floors underneath them.

Is there anything that you normally see as "fat fingers" that you could look beyond today?


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