Daddy’s Hands

As a child I used to sing the song Daddy’s Hands by Holly Dunn a lot. I sang it so often that I was asked to sing it at my grandfather’s memorial service along with his favourite, One Day at a Time by Merle Haggard. I have always appreciated the lyrics because even as a child I understood their profound meaning.

The lyrics are as follows:

I remember Daddy’s folded silently in prayer and reaching out to hold me when I had a nightmare. you could read quite a story in those callouses and lines; years of work and worry have their mark behind.

I remember Daddy’s hands how they held my momma tight and patted my back for something done right. There are things that I 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 crying. 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 working til they bled and 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.

(From memory so they may not be completely accurate)

These are my daddy’s hands today. Once strong and invincible in my mind, now swollen and bruised. If you know my father at all, you understand how this song accurately portrays him.

He was always up to play board games, cards, or jump on the trampoline. I’m almost certain he still would if he could. He’s a big kid at heart but he was also a disciplinarian who would punish misbehaviour appropriately.

My dad has worked hard his whole life. He was an honest businessman and a phenomenal mechanic. He worked long hours. He always came home for dinner but often went back to work once dinner was put away.

The past couple months have been pretty hard on my father. His cancer rapidly spread causing pain, swelling, and all kinds of other horrible side effects. Yesterday he started immunotherapy to try to prevent further spread. Today is his last radiation treatment. He gets to ring the bell. Those same strong hands that held on to me after nightmares and now are bruised and swollen get to ring the bell in one small triumph.

Here’s to many more!