Touch

It's been over 22 days since I had touched or been touched by another
human being. Three weeks and counting. It was for my safety, but it
can be hard as a mother to see your children and know you can't hug them
or hold their hand. It's hard as a wife to just wave to your husband from
across the room.

Last night, I got to be "re-contaminated" with my world. The Hubs brought the
kids down to see me after dinner. I got to hug each of them. I got to hold
their hands. I got to touch their faces.

As humans, touch is one of the first senses to develop. Babies need touch to thrive.
A touch can be comforting. To let you know you are not alone.

To be denied that touch is to emphasize that what you are going through is your journey
alone. And a lonely journey that can be at times. I am not good at being alone. I crave
people. I crave company. Being in this room for a month was hard, not just physically,
but psychically.

I think that it is rather fitting that when your bloodcount numbers come up to the point
that you are safer, you get a reward - touching those you love. I cannot think of a
better way to celebrate.