Blue Veins

When I was little, I used to believe that if the veins in my hands were raised and visible along the surface of my skin, it meant I was feeling sorry for myself.  My body betraying a sense of weakness.  Being vulnerable and exposed, somehow.  I rarely saw them, other than a faint blue beneath my smooth and youthful skin, so to see them had to mean something.  Surely it did…

Sitting in the hot tub tonight, staring at my hand in the bluish underwater light, I flashed back on this memory as I looked at my veined hand.  The veins now clearly visible.   Woven and intricate.  Raised.

I see the veins in my hands all the time now.