It's said you can tell a lot by a person's hands. An older person shows their experience and life lessons. A young one shows her frailty and inexperience.
Grace's hands show her life.
She bites her fingernails when she's nervous.
She likes blue nail polish.
These hands love to write and receive letters from her pen pal "G8."
They smell of chlorine from all the time she spends in the pool.
On her wrist is her constant - her green medical ID bracelet adorned with soccer balls. It's frayed and stretched out, screaming to be replaced. She's my active girl.
This week sports a new decoration - a blue wrist band denoting her proficiency in the water. With this she's allowed all access to the camp pool. No restrictions. Great swimmer.
The "1.7" is how many units of insulin she received for lunch at camp today. That's how the counselors keep track.
If you look closely you can see the callouses on each and every one of her finger tips. A badge she bears attesting to all the finger pokes to check her blood sugar.
These are the hands of a diabetic.
These are the hands of my daughter.