It’s funny how you don’t realize the role something fills in your life, until it’s not there…
As my followers know, I have been struggling with repeated infections since the holidays. In response, I have returned to the cautious way of living that colored my life during IV chemo. Grocery carts are carefully sanitized before use. Running errands is accomplished in off-peak hours. Making commitments to people, and to projects, are thoughtfully considered and made. And touch, something I treasure, has become something I parcel out only to Brandi, Amber, and Brie.

I relish the connection of touch. When it was time to pass the peace at church, I consistently offered strong handshakes and hugs. These days I sit quietly and raise two fingers in the shape of a peace sign. The connection is made with my eyes and my smile. But I feel something lacking.

It was painful to communicate with my clients that I would no longer be hugging them at the end of our therapy sessions. Many have shared with me that it is the only safe touch they have in their life. I felt I was letting them down in a very basic way. And yet, my desire to not feel physical pain pushed me forward to set the boundary.
Now, it has been over a month without touch, except by my immediate family. I have to admit, I feel a bit lonely, and maybe disconnected. I knew that offering people physical touch was my vehicle for showing affection, but I did not realize how much it filled my own spirit. Until it was gone. I still love people and feel their love, but a layer is missing. So, what is the gift in missing out on touch? The gift is that someday I will heal from these infections and be free to touch again. And when I do, it will be with a sense of gratitude so much deeper than ever before. What is that old song lyric, “You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone”? True stuff. True stuff.