My husband John talked last night about the importance of human touch.  Sadly, touch has sometimes come to mean an ugly thing.  But we talked about the the kind of touch that connects and reconnects us to others. I'm on the introverted side, but I can't imagine what life is like for those so isolated that they have no one who shows them that the space they take up on this earth is important, even sacred.

    I grew up in a family that rarely touched.  It wasn't a question of love.  I knew my parents loved me and both would have thrown themselves in front of a moving car to save me or any of the rest of my siblings. But friendly touches or hugs weren't something we exchanged.  We had lively conversations and lots of stimulation for our brains. We also had fun.  But it wasn't until I went to college and made lasting friendships that I found out hugs felt good. 

John comes from a family of huggers and kissers.  On our first vacation, I met people who kissed me on my cheek when we were introduced.  All I could think was, "What is this kissy on the face business?"
I'm happy to report that with the example of John, I learned how wonderful touch feels.  The great feel good hormones can last a long time. My brothers and sisters now hug.  My Dad passed away almost 10 years ago, but even Mom is now used to our kisses.

Peace,
Therese