Holding hands is underrated.
I remember the first time I held Kim’s hand. We hadn’t known each other very long. I held her hand and swung her arm as while we walked around Las Vegas.
While still in my teens I’d walk around Temple Square in downtown Salt Lake City holding my grandma’s hand. It helped keep her balance. It made me feel special. I didn’t mind the leisurely pace because the flowers and fountains were so peaceful and beautiful. And it meant I could spend more time with her. When I see my grandma now the first thing she does is take my hand. I love that.
My brother-in-law took this picture of Anna (1 day old) holding Luca’s finger.
I walked Lincoln and Luca to the bus stop on Friday. Luca skipped ahead of me. That’s what 2nd graders do I’m told. But Lincoln gripped my hand as tight as he could. He only released it when the bus arrived so he could wave to me as he walked towards the black stairs leading to the seats on the bus.
When it was time to pickup Luca from school I walked around the corner of our house and waited for the big yellow bus to arrive. I figured she’d jump off the bus and hop on down the road. When the bus pulled up, she looked out the window and smiled. I was right. She hopped off the bus. But she came right up to me, grabbed my hand and we walked home together hand in hand.
Yep, holding hands is underrated.