Kristin reflects on her holiday and rediscovers the feeling of touch.
We chase down new biologics, opioids, alternative therapies and what have you, and perhaps what we need most is right here at home...
Amidst all of the presents — and boy, were there a lot of presents under the tree (is it just me or do they seem to breed as you open them?) — the cookie decorating, the crafts, and the holiday music, I was definitely feeling a little “bah humbug” this holiday season. For one, I was separated from my beloved, as he traveled to be with his family for the holidays. And, it was also raining in “sunny” Southern California and I expect it to be nothing less than a perfect 75 degrees when I visit (I admit I sound like a brat.) But on top of it all, I was also sick on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Not just mildly sick, disastrously sick. As in, could not leave the bathroom except for a few minutes at a time to come see my family open their gifts. Despite my period of anguish, I did have a good holiday. And what stands out are the pure moments of bliss that were delivered upon me like little gifts each day. My niece, who is 2 ½ is at the most delightful age, as she is now fully aware of who I am and how much I love her. And I’m pretty certain the feeling is mutual. She never paused to consider if I was worthy of a hug — she just ran up to give me one whenever she felt like it. If she wanted to run up behind me and tackle me with a bear hug, she did it, no questions asked. She smothered my face with her little kisses and every few minutes with her are sprinkled with her precious little giggles — a sound I wish I could bottle up and sell, because it would surely cure the world of it’s ills.
It made me think of how stingy I’ve become with my physical affection. I am often so afraid to allow people to reach out and touch me so I in turn extend less physical affection to others — probably because I carry around my very own invisible Plexiglas shield in case someone bumps the wrong joint or steps on my sore toes. But my niece doesn’t know about my swollen joints and achy muscles — and her hugs were the best medicine I’ve received all year long. I wish I could have one of her hugs every day! Such pure, nonjudgmental, un-self-conscious love delivered through human touch. We chase down new biologics, opioids, alternative therapies and what have you, and perhaps what we need most is right here at home — more loving touches from the people we love the most. Who knew AT&T could be so right?