Good With His Hands

Feb 24 2020

To know like the back of your hand

might have worked for my grandfather

who was good with his hands

and could fix almost anything,

gazing down, day after day

as they performed their labour

until he had them learned by heart.

Not quite muscle memory, but close,

the way each octopus arm

contains its own small brain

working unaware.

I remember his,
big hands
like an awkward farm-boy's.

Tough skin, worn to a shine

where big bulbous knuckles stuck up.

The mottled complexion

and strong tendons

and badly healed scars.

The bent and broken fingers

that recorded a lifetime of work.

And I am surprised to see how similar

my own hands are

at the age he was

when I knew him best.

Still, if called to task
I would never recognize the back of my hand.

Not in this digital world

where all I do is type, eyes on screen.

Where things are discarded, not fixed,

and we see the analog and manual

as impractical, somehow.

Or perhaps the hands of old men

all start to look the same.

And we look away, of course,

not wanting to be reminded of time

or the frailty of age.

His strong hands, where mine are weak.

His ability

and my dependency

on others to master and make.

I find myself occasionally using this expression, and each time comment to myself how absurd it is. Because I most definitely do not know the back of my hand. It may often be in front of my face, but it's one of those many things we see but don't observe.

It also strikes me that this may be as much a casualty of our era as a personal quirk. That we do not work with our hands. That manual labour is disrespected. That we are largely helpless and incapable.

And when I ruminate on the appearance of my hands, I notice things that remind me of my maternal grandfather. He emigrated from Russian. He was handy. He made his living with his hands. And they reflected this lifetime of experience. I imagine he knew the back of his hand very well indeed!

Perhaps we should retire this expression. Or perhaps it will live on, like many expressions that contain their historical origins but are no longer literally true: like “dialing” a phone number on a smart phone; or like reading the news”paper” that's no longer in print but on a screen; or like “pumping” gas when no one currently alive has ever actually pumped petrol as one would water from a well. Squeezing a lever at self-serve is strenuous enough!