Touch Somebody Special

     Weeks before my husband underwent surgery for cancer, he told me that if things didn't go well and he ever reached a point where he was unable to tell me what he needed ... it was human touch. I was struck by how simple and profound his request was of me. Quietly holding hands, a hug, stroking his face, massaging tired limbs ... even when words fail or become inadequate, the power of skin-to-skin contact says it all.

     Thankfully, his 13th-year anniversary of being cancer free is approaching. This year especially, we have been reminded about how much we mean to each other. I had a scary looking mammogram a couple weeks ago and received a phone call to come back for another, plus an ultrasound. I was convinced I'd be in surgery before Thanksgiving, but everything turned out to be harmlessly benign.

     We fell into each others' arms in a tearful hug of relief. Our eyes did the speaking.

     Friends have hugged me, placed a hand on my shoulder, and when distance prevented physical contact I still felt it across the miles. I was never alone. Most of the people in our circle don't even know there was even a situation yet, because we just didn't have enough information to share before it all evaporated like a bad dream, but they were there beside me anyway because of my trust in their deep friendship. It has turned out to be a blessing in disguise to be reminded of the faces of all these people who would selflessly step up to help in whatever way possible. Hugs to them all!

     As you consider all the things for which you are grateful this Thanksgiving ... become a gift to someone else by reaching out and simply touching them.

Handshake with a Stranger

     Our weekly shopping had been completed and the bags of groceries were tucked away in the trunk of the car. This part of the routine typically follows eating breakfast at a favorite restaurant. The logic behind this is the advice that one should never go to the supermarket on an empty stomach, or else you'll end up at the cash register loaded down with lots of impulse items (usually high calorie). Personally, I haven't noticed my stomach and brain communicating with each other any better after breakfast than before, but I'm not one to turn down a delicious omelet ... so I'm willing to keep testing the theory.

     Only one errand remained before heading back home to spend a rainy day indoors. The fuel gauge on the car was registering 1/4 full. I pulled into a station, far enough forward so that my husband would be standing under the awning instead of in the drizzling rain. That put me close enough to notice several stickers in the window of the vehicle parked directly ahead of me.

     I leaned forward (stupid bi-focals) and realized that the gentleman who owned the car was a veteran. He displayed the branch of service, the company he had been assigned to, and a specific battle in which he had participated. I opened my car door and stepped out, calling out, "Sir?" He turned to me and shook his head, "I don't hear well." The stranger slowly walked toward me, and I stepped toward him while pointing to the stickers on his back window.

     "I just wanted to thank you for your service, especially with Veterans' Day coming up this week." I held out my hand; he returned my smile with his own as we exchanged a friendly handshake.

     All politics aside, right or wrong, ... world history wears a human face. Thank you for the freedom I enjoyed this morning to eat a hearty breakfast, shop from a plentiful selection of produce, fill my car with gas and return to my warm home. Thank you.