A Hug of Grace

I grew up around my Greek grandma, my yiayia, who loved to give triple kisses. She would lean down, grab my head, turn my cheek to her lips and fire off three rocket-like kisses in a row. Then she’d mutter something sweet in her native Greek language and you knew you were really something special.

When I went to Greece, everyone there kissed you on both cheeks, whether they knew you or not. Usually they added a hug as well. No wonder the Greeks are known for their warm hospitality.

In this age of social media and detached conversations, I wonder if people are still touching, still hugging and kissing? And I mean in a friendly, I LOVE YOU, kind of way.

Beautiful Babies
Beautiful Babies

Last week, I read a story and saw a picture on the internet (which actually turned out to be from 1995) that almost stopped my heart. It was an image of two very small twins and one had her arm around the other. Apparently the one twin had not been doing well and a nurse fought to put the other twin in the incubator with the ailing one. When placed together, the one stronger twin swung her arm over the other more fragile one. The fragile baby stabilized and lived. I think this speaks volumes about the power of touch. Touch has the power to heal, to say I care about you, or even to say I’m with you on this.

These days, touching can be greatly misconstrued. It is a sad state of affairs sometimes when it’s done for the wrong reasons or when it gets out of hand. But I still believe in a warm embrace, a loving hug, a kiss bestowed as a valentine. I believe that we as humans crave touch, yearn for closeness and wish for connection. Hugs and kisses are an expression of our innate yearning to bond with our fellow human beings.

My husband Jim and I are cuddlers. Even now, while I’m still on the last edges of menopause, I lean against him in bed or touch my hot feet to his cool ones! Thankfully, he is a hugger and loves to snuggle.

Recently, Jim needed a small surgery on his knee. It was outpatient surgery and I hung out in the waiting room until they told me I could go sit with him. He was very groggy from the anesthesia so I didn’t say much. I sat down on the chair next to his bed and softly laid my hand on top of his. Sitting patiently, I waited for him to come around. I knew just touching his hand spoke volumes and words were not really necessary.

A touch, sometimes, is all it really takes.

Thanks to WordPress, for giving me an opportunity to show off one of my favorite posts!

Join me on my graceful journey.