Bob Thomas Writes

Touch

I once read that an infant, left untouched, with the proper food and water served by an unseen hand, will not thrive – perhaps even die.

I wonder if that applies to us all. Oh, I’m sure we won’t die, but I’m pretty sure we won’t thrive as well as we could if we were touched by a loving hand everyday.

As a bachelor for near 20 years, and at the age of 69 years, I’ve given it some thought recently. Admittedly on days when I’m feeling sorry for myself – just weekdays and weekends – maybe holidays.

It’s a silly thing to do, but I find myself calculating the number of days since I was touched by a loving hand – a family member, ex-wife etc. (Yes, my ex wife loves me.)

It’s was April 2012 when my Son gave me a hug – 3 months ago. About May 2012 when my ex-wife held me close for a minute or so – before that it was almost two years ago.  I think she misses being held too.

Since then I’ve had friends give me a hug, but not because they love me! Mostly because we were just ‘doing the right thing’ and giving each other a squeeze instead of a handshake.

I’ve heard people use the term, “alone in a crowd”, and I realize that’s me. I work with a few nice folks, I eat at local restaurants where I’m known, but I’m alone. All of the time.

I spend weekends alone. I spend holidays alone – except for my annual Christmas pilgrimage to visit family. And a few visits during the year.

I take day trips by myself to the local tourist sites. I take drives in the country by myself just to get out of the house.

I know it’s all my fault. Something of my own choosing. But I don’t really want to spend time with people that I don’t really like, or love. Oh, they’re nice folks. Pleasant, kind, genial and they all invite me to ‘come over anytime’. But they aren’t people I love. I can count all the folks I love on my fingers, and still have a finger left over. Of course I have relatives that I love, but I love them like relatives!  There is a difference.

I miss the touch of another human being – a caress – a pat on the shoulder – a brush on my cheek.

No. ‘Miss’ is not correct. I Pine for it. Desire it. Agonize for it. Morn the loss of it. Sometimes I think I will not thrive without it.

Touch. Just a touch.