sometimes when we touch


verb (used with object)

  1. to put the hand, finger, etc., on or into contact with (something) to feel it: He touched the iron cautiously.
  2. to come into contact with and perceive (something), as the hand or the like does.
  3. to bring (the hand, finger, etc., or something held) into contact with something: She touched a match to the papers.
  4. to give a slight tap or pat to with the hand, finger, etc.; strike or hit gently or lightly.
  5. to come into or be in contact with.

Touch. Something we, as humans, need in order to thrive. Something we crave; probably to insure our survival. But sometimes touch can be so hard to accept. Sometimes the simplest, the lightest of touches can actually be painful. Sometimes touch can be just too much.

Living with and loving this boy-child of mine, I have come to realize this. I almost said that I have come to understand this.

I don’t.

Understand it that is.

I don’t.

I also struggle to accept it. I do chose to live with it because life with this wonderfully complex child is worth the confusion of who he is and the challenge of trying to figure out which key will unlock the magical mystery that is who he is.

Touch is a difficult thing for Daniel. One can’t just come up and break his extra-large personal bubble and touch him. Accidentally brushing up against his arm or leg is truly painful for him. We won’t even discuss the trauma that is helping him trim his nails. Oh dear god, no we will not go there. Yet he is a hugger. He reaches out to be hugged close and he hugs you back, squeezing with all of his might.

Go figure!

I believe perhaps it is all those days Bill and I would do kangaroo care with him in the NICU. We would take turns holding him close against our chest with multiple tubes and lines taped to our bodies. We would hold him in this fashion for hours at a time until our arms, shoulders and back would ache. Weird that they would hurt so considering back then he weighed all of 2-5 pounds. You hold something that size in your arms close to your chest for a couple hours and you will see. You do ache. But it still was so worth it, holding that little man of ours.  He would relax as if this was where he truly belonged. As an infant, a toddler and as a small child that was the only way that he could be calmed and settled, brought back to a state of normalcy.

Perhaps that is why he is a hugger, tightly hugging his family, hugging his teachers, the yard duty, people he meets and likes. He might not make absolute, direct eye contact with you and maybe…okay, pretty much always he might not engage in topics of conversation that you want to talk about or believe is acceptable every day conversation…

as if talking about the latest Nintendo 3D DS game or the bazillion Hot Wheels cars that he owns are not interesting enough topics of discussion…

in YOUR humble opinion.

But if you take the time to sit down with him and engage with him at his level perhaps you might be lucky enough to catch but a glance of direct eye contact with his beautiful smiling eyes and bask in the warmth of his smile and be enveloped in one of his amazing hugs. How lucky you will be then because you will truly understand how hard he tries and how honest this kind of touch from him is.

This week’s Focus 52 prompt is NAME THAT TUNE. Can you name the tune that inspired me this week?


5 thoughts on “sometimes when we touch

  1. I wish we lived closer. Tyler and Daniel have a lot in common and I think would be great buddies. They could yammer on for hours about video games. 😀

  2. Pingback: favorite | Adventures in Juggling

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