WHAT I KNOW ABOUT HER HANDS
They raised seven children, starting at age 19. Some not her own, some delivered on her own.
They like to cheers with a glass of soju, especially the San brand. They motion at empty glasses around the table, to be filled and cheers’d again.
They caress her grandchildren’s faces to give them smooches before they head out.
It looks like a faire la bise, but it feels so much warmer than a casual goodbye greeting.
They slap my bare knees when I’m wearing destroyed denim, asking why I paid for half-ripped jeans. It’s style, of course, but it really did make me wonder why.
They are often massaging her cramped legs, thin enough to be grasped entirely within the palm of one hand.
They recently started exercising with a green hand grip she brought back from a nursing home in Korea.
They are quite slender, with long and lean fingers.
Her rings are too loose to fit them now, so she keeps them stowed in boxes.
They twirl when she dances. Once, she was on the local Korean news because she danced so well. It really wouldn’t be too much to say she’s a celebrity.
You can see their 90 years of finesse in them– in the way she cooks, cuts kimchi, peels chestnuts.
She almost threw her phone to the ground one day, upset and flustered that it wasn’t working right. She had switched from a flip to smartphone; touch screens are honestly too sensitive for the tenacious hands of a 1920s woman. A couple minutes later, she was throwing up peace signs over the phone, waving with smiles and laughs. FaceTime with her son & granddaughter.
Her hands are so wildly expressive.
These are her hands.
And this is her.