The hand is distinctly human. A thorax is just a thorax, and a shoulder is just a shoulder. In contrast, like the heart, brain, or face, a hand is not just a hand. It’s somebody’s hand.
When prosecting the hand tissue, as we did today, it’s troublingly difficult to dissociate yourself from the gruesome reality of the task – cutting apart a person’s dead body. I felt again deeply accusing guilt of invasion, and violation.
What work did he use his hands for? Perhaps he played an instrument with them. Perhaps he penned words that have out-lasted the hands that formed that. Whose hands did he lovingly hold in his?
Now his final handshake: … me, with my stinging scalpel. I greet him again in those hands, human even in death. I’m sorry for putting you through this. I’m sorry for keeping you here. Thank you, for this last meaningful action of your – always your - hands.
Now we know that he is a male. And that he had a life and you recognize that he is still a person and has a spirit. That you speak your words, as if a prayer to him, thanking him, I am sure he heard you. I’d even go so far as to say that maybe he stands besides you in that theatre watching your every move and action. I’m sure you thought about that too. Don’t you think he knew that you would meet? That he gave himself for this very special meeting? Honor and respect him and none of this will have been in vain. Always begin with a prayer of forgiveness and gratitude that you came this way, and you will do fine.
keep writing…
Jeremy
Comment by jeremy — November 10, 2009 @ 12:28 am
Think of helping hands…his hands helping your hands to teach others.
Comment by Mom — November 11, 2009 @ 8:20 pm
Thanks for this post Jason. It is so good to see the caring and respectful use of someone’s very intimate gift to teach others. Knowing you, the person you were working on would be happy such a caring and respectful person was prosecting their body.
Comment by Sarah — November 12, 2009 @ 9:56 am