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.
The hard part is when space makes that vital touch impossible, and we have to try to convey part of what we want to some other way. The words of poets seem to come closest, but still, they're only substitutes. And when space becomes infinite, the worst is trying to find some even subliminal way to bridge it...
ReplyDeleteRoberta, I just found you when I saw your comment on Joan's blog. I agree that human touch is very important. I miss that more than anything since my husband passed away. It was something I had taken for granted all those years, not realizing how prescious it was. Handholding, hugging and simple gestures like touching his hair, or him touching my face.
ReplyDeleteI like your writing.