A Strange Lady Rubs My Leg and Some Things I've Learned About Touch

On Thursday last week, I drowsily sat in a large, afternoon seminar in Portland, Oregon.  I was in a room full of strangers taking in a lecture, What Is Complicated Grief.   The lady I sat down beside appeared to be about 70 years old, a very 'put together' looking lady.  I guessed her to be from the South, which she was - Atlanta.  We peaceably listened to our speakers.  About a half hour in, I felt a hand on my knee and it was not mine.  It was hers.  Yes, her hand was on my knee and she began gently caressing my leg. 

Here are the thoughts that went through my mind, in order. And thinking these thoughts took about .5 seconds.
1)  This is strange
2)  We are in a 'touchy feely' profession - maybe the topic is causing her to need some connection?
3)  Am I being molested?!?
4) I think she's asleep

There are so many moments in my life, when I feel like Steve Martin from The Jerk.  When he is working as an attendant at the gas station and a sniper begins shooting at him.  The bullets hit the oil cans behind him.  Punctured of course, they begin spilling out on the ground.  "These cans are defective!" he cries.  "There's something the matter with these cans!"  It takes him an inordinate amount of time to figure out that SOMEONE IS SHOOTING AT HIM. 

I feel like I'm a slow learner, too.  After all "the logic" I went through to reach my conclusion about why this strange woman was rubbing me, I put my hand on the lady's shoulder...'ma'am,' I said, 'I think you must be falling asleep.'  Well, that jarred her awake.  And she felt a little embarrassed.  'My husband is at the conference with me and usually sits by me at all the sessions.  I was falling asleep and just automatically put my hand on his knee, but it turned out to be you!'  We had a good laugh about this and it became a funny touch point through the conference because she told her husband too and whenever we ran into one another there were the expected humorous remarks, like, 'am I going to need to separate you two?!'

It really wasn't embarrassing at all.  In fact, it made me think how sweet and comforting it is just to have someone familiar to sit by and rub their knee. 

A second story in the past couple weeks about the power of touch is a little more personal.  Our beloved 18 year old cat experiences a big decline in health, had to be euthanized.  Deciding to have a vet come to the house seemed like the most loving choice, because Emmylou hated going to the vet.  In fact, in her younger years, I couldn't ever take her, because her upset mewing unnerved me.  So, when it became apparent that these were her last days, I looked into several in-home vet choices (all of which looked very reputable and caring) and went with an organization called, Lap of Love. 

My son is almost 14 years old.  As a little boy, though he snuggled, he was always squirmy like me.  He didn't want anyone to hold him for too long - he wanted to move and go.  And after fourth grade, he has been decidedly un-snuggly and very stoic by nature.  He is not one to express tender emotion at all.  Except when it comes to the animals.  After those parenting moments when you think, 'is my kid going to turn out ok?', I'll see him with Emmylou or the dog and know that he has a gentle soul underneath his no-nonsense exterior. 

But I was surprised when he wanted to be present for 'the end'.  And not only that, a profound moment occurred that I could never have planned.  I sat on the floor with the cat and the vet and she'd given Emmylou her first shot - the shot for pain and anesthesia.   If you've ever been with an animal at that time, they sort of give up their energy then - they become very limp and lifeless and it was then that the tears for me, started.  My nose was running and I wiped my nose on my shirt and it was getting to be a little gross, honestly, so I said to my son, 'Would you hold her while I go get a tissue?'  Yes, he would.  So he got down on the ground and held her little head and shoulders in his hands and stroked her.  When I came back, it was almost time for her to get the final shot.  'Do you want me to hold her now?' I asked him - I thought maybe he wouldn't want to hold her as she died.   'No, I'm ok,' he said.  So he held her and just petted her gently, and I held her little paw.  And we are so crazy in my family that even my ex-husband was there in the room and the dog and my daughter were upstairs because that 's what they wanted.  But more than any of what could have been weird family dynamics, in my view something much more significant happened.   I saw that Emmylou was held at the end of her life, by someone who does not give out his love easily, but loved her very much. 

I guess my relationship with being comforted and loved through the power of touch transformed through both becoming a mother and witnessing what it means to simply hold someone's hand as you sit by their sickbed.  Though, my mom reports that as a kid, if she or my dad tried to get me to sit on their laps and snuggle, I'd sit for a very short while and then say, "too tight."  And even now, if I'm with a natural born hugger (rather than a convert like me), I can feel that my hugs are about 2 seconds shorter than theirs would be.  But, I keep working on balancing my squirminess and desire to move with my willingness to be vulnerable in that way.  It seems to me that hugs and physical touch and care are some of the most beautiful parts of being a human and I don't want to miss out on any of it.

Just a final thought - I was looking up quotes about hugs to wrap up this blogpost and many of them, as you can imagine, are pretty cheesy, but I'll leave you with the one below.  Hope you get or give a good hug today.