The night before John went to the hospital, I outlined his hand on paper. I did it three times. I plan to outline KitKat’s hand in one, the other with Izzy and one with all four of our hands. I will frame all of them and we will decide where we will hang them.
When the Newtown shooting happened, it really shook me up. I cried for those families everyday for 3 months, I did the 26 Acts of Kindness, I keep up with how they are doing by reading their blogs. Every morning since then, I make sure to hold Izzy’s hand as I tell her I love her, to have a good day and to be safe. I feel each finger, I feel her whole hand and study the bone structure. I squeeze it a bit and memorize it. I guess if anything like Newtown happens in her school, I will always have her hand in mine and no one will ever take that away from me.
Yesterday, I realized I have been doing this with John. I have always loved his hands. Always loved the way they feel. I study his skin. I study his fingers and like Izzy’s hand, I hold them to memorize the touch. How do I let go of the hands I held for 20 years?
Touch has always been important to me. I think it’s very healing. When I was a teacher, I would give each child in the classroom a hello hug and a good bye hug, I would rub backs or heads at nap time, I would pat heads for a job well done or wipe tears when a child was sad. We are so concerned over touching at schools and I understand.
John has been in the hospital since Thursday morning and I bathed him today. No one has touched him. No one has cleaned him. When did that stop? Are they afraid to touch him because he is all bones? When do we stop caring for each other? Why? What if this was a nurse or doctor’s relative? Would this be acceptable to them? I am so frustrated at how we are losing basic treatment of each other. We read and shake our heads over the treatment of others through our social media sites but what about when this is happening right in front of you?