For most of my childhood I remember them as coarse, dry and scratchy. Winter months left them cracked and bleeding. They were working man's hands, laying brick, for over 50 years. To me, they were all powerful.
Time and age have softened them and the skin has thinned. The ring worn on the left for over 40 years is now on the right. They now are the hands of an aging man and my heart refuses to acknowledge what his hands are showing me.