Granddaddy's hands....

I remember daddy's hands
folded silently in prayer
And reaching' out to hold me,
when I had a nightmare
You could read quite a story
in the callous' and lines
Years of work and worry
had left their mark behind

I remember daddy's hands
how they held my mama tight
And patted my back
for something done right
There are things that I'd 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
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


Daddy's hands were soft and kind
when I was cryin'
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.


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.

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That is a lovely song. Really beautiful. Every time I hear this song I want to throw up. I hate it with every fiber of my being.

When it comes on and I am with my mother, I wonder what she is thinking. Is her thoughts similar to the verses in this song? Or is she picturing those hands on her young daughter?

That is what this song makes me remember. These words bring to mind the hands of my grandfather.

I lived with my grandparents from second grade until the end of fifth grade. Then I moved back in for part of 6th grade, also part of 7th and 8th. I lived with them a lot.

He was a very strict man. He watched religious shows, the news and baseball. The only music he listened to was bluegrass and gospel. I could not play cards. Not Go Fish or Runny. The cards were the devils tools. I could not listen to country music or pop, that was the devils music.

I was unable to do a lot. I could not go next door, because my best friend that lived next door happened to be a boy. He could come over to my house. J.J taught me how to ride a bike and to play football. He was there to hang out with and keep me company. Grandma sometimes let him come in and she would bake Pillsbury cookies and we would sit at the table and sneak and play cards or watch TV. He was like a life-line back then. I remember sitting on the front porch and crying with his little skinny arms around my shoulder. I do not know what would have happened to me if it were not for him.

I saw him before Birdy started high school. We went to the middle school graduation and he was there. He knew me. Had not seen me since I was in middle school and a lot smaller. But he yelled for me and said he would know me anywhere.

I digress.

This man was cranky and complained about everything. My grandmother would sneak and smoke in the bathroom. Cigarettes were as bad as alcohol to him, both being tools of the devil.

He made everyone's life hell. He fussed all the time.

Granddaddy's hands.....

I will never forget them as long as I live. I can not remember the first time I felt those hands. They were a way of life. They were always there. I would just pretend that it was not happening. I would block it out.

I knew it would get worse. That day I do remember. I was laying in my bedroom watching Saturday morning cartoons. My grandmother had fallen asleep in the living room watching TV.

I remember the door opening and looking up. There he was. He shut the door and came and sat beside me on the bed.

Granddaddys hands.....

It was always happening. I hated for my grandmother to leave the room.

My uncle and his new wife moved in with us and I was sent to the couch to sleep every night.

I was more accessible.

He always stayed up late watching the news and would head to bed at exactly 11:30. Not after iI moved into the living room to sleep on the 'davenport', as he called it. He always smelled like strong pee and had whiskers. I would have whisker burns.

I was never able to sleep. I would turn towards the back of the sofa and pretend to be asleep. It made no difference. I hated to hear the sports ending on the news, because I knew what was coming, granddaddy's hands.

I told him I was going to tell and he told me that no one would ever believe me and they would all hate me. I was so scared, my grandmother was everything to me.

The only people that knew were my cousins. I was not the only one it was happening to. I also told my best friend in 6th grade.

One time, being young and stupid my 2 cousins (they were sisters) and I thought we would trap him. I was about 9. We tape recorded him. We had him. I victoriously held up the tape and told him it was over. He chased me. How this frail old man chased me, I will never know. I tried to run in the bathroom and lock the door but he was pushing on it and beating against it. He got the tape. He destroyed the tape. I cried and cried.

It continued.

One time, I was living with my mom for one of the short periods I did live with her, and she asked me had he ever done anything to me. I was in 7th grade. I told her the truth. She told me that she had walked in one time and thought that he had his hands up my shirt but was not sure. We both cried and she told me about a man when she was a child. I thought we bonded.

Then there was another fight with her boyfriend. It got violent and I went back to live with my grandparents.

Another time I moved back with my mom, 8th grade I believe. Christmas vacation. Had been there about 2 days. I had not even had a chance to unpack my couple of bags. Another bad fight. This one lasted a couple days. I was there for about 4, I guess. She told me that she told him that his friend had touched me. She wanted me to lie for her. We were at the wrecker place his brother owned and they were all drinking and shooting craps. He got violent and started stomping her on the ground, so I called my uncle (I have 5 of these.) to come and get me. I stayed with them that night. While I was there his wife asked me about my grandfather. He had been doing it to her daughter, who had down syndrome. I admitted it to her and about someone else. (that's another story) She promised never to tell.

They took me home to my grandparents house the next day. The lying bitch told me grandmother.

He did not touch me again after that day. He was a cold hearted bastard and made my life miserable in other ways.

My grandmother never looked at me the same. I could see the difference in her eyes.

One of my cousins, one of the ones who had helped me record him years before, moved in with us. I would sleep on the couch and she slept on the floor next to me.

He was going after her every night.

So, we hatched a plan. We were going to run away. This was the summer after 8th grade. It was her dad who had taken over my room. My grandparents lived with one of their sons. There were 2 of my uncles there. We stole my other uncles brand new truck. We packed it up and were taking off. Her dad caught us. He ran after us in his fruit of the looms down the drive way.

We did not make it far. A few house down the road. Totaled the truck. She said she could drive, but we were about 13 yrs old. Squished the truck in between 2 trees. Amazing we walked away.

An ambulance and the cops came. We told the ambulance driver why we were running away. He took us to the emergency room and we ended up separated and questioned.

Now everyone knew.

They all knew.

No one ever really looked at me the same after that.

He was not arrested. He was an old man in failing health.

He was unable to hold an erection. He had a urine bag.

They put his picture in the database and that was it.

I guess they thought since he could not become erect, that he could not really harm anyone.

They were wrong.

There was always Granddaddys hands......



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edited to add: This was really hard for me to write and has taken me a while to write this one.