My maternal grandmother's hands were the same size as mine. I know this because the rings she gave me fit me perfectly. When I was massaging my paternal grandmother's feet recently I discovered I inherited her feet. Mine have the same shapes and curves that hers does, just a bigger model.
My ancestors are in my body. My grandmothers guide my actions and my steps... always. I can't escape them. Unless I mutilate my body. This knowledge has been gratifying and comforting: I feel them with me. I am not alone as I put on my shoes. When I put on lotion I am reminded of the residue left in the crevices of my Grandma's ring. When I stretch they connect me like the poles on the planet. I feel more secure in my waking life, knowing that their legacy is engraved in my body.
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