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 callouses and lines,

years of work and worry had left 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’ve 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 till 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.