Dad's last goodbye !

I don't remember much
of his firm young hands
that threw me in the air
as a little girl

the stern hands with which
he taught me how to
hold a screwdriver
and open gadgets

I remember his dry,flaky
frail old hands
that held mine
to get up and sit down

the cold rough hands
in which he delicately held
my little one
every time she hugged him

the unsure hand
that waved to me
from the car's window

his last goodbye !