Hold My Hand

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One of my earliest memories growing up is a gift my dad gave to my mom. It was a watch with Mickey and Minnie Mouse on it holding hands. The watch had a cool trick. When you pressed a button on the side it played a little tune, a classic, "I Want to Hold Your Hand" by The Beatles. I heard the phrase other times in my life too. My parents held my hand when I was crossing the street, when we walked around in the grocery store. My hand was held when I went to the dentist or the doctor's office. Each time I felt uncomfortable, out of place, or needed a little reassurance, someone I loved was there to hold my hand.


In one of my classes last week, a young lady that has been married just a little longer than me made a comment that stuck with me. She said, "Newlyweds stop being newlyweds when they don't have to hold hands everywhere they go". I hope I never stop being a newlywed.

Getting married has made me feel like a kid again in a lot of ways. There are so many new experiences, new things to learn, and new roles to fill. I find myself looking for a hand to hold because I'm crossing new streets. I'm uncomfortable, out of place, and I need a little reassurance. I always find Jake's hand there for me.

Jake holds my hand each time we drive in his stick shift. He doesn't let go, not even to shift gears.  He just takes my hand with his. Our heater went out today. It just happened to be the day that winter decided to return to the warm February we've had. I walked into the house and laughed out loud. It was freezing. I hate being cold, but I was happy. I knew that the colder it was in the house, the more Jake would want to hang on to my hands.

The heater kicked back on, Jake fixed it, but he held my hands anyway. I guess that's why my little wife life is so happy.

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