Mom very understandably needs time away from the house (and I support it), so on days when she has Pilates I am going to their place to check on dad. Work breaks allow for it as I work from home thankfully.
When she went today I walked over during lunch to check on dad, and he was at the table enjoying pie and a tall glass of milk. Yummy cherry pie, he sat spooning it up from the container, listening to the radio. I went over to rub his shoulders and neck a bit as I used to when I was a child. He loved it so much when I was growing up that I’d happily spend a few mins each day just rubbing or walking on his back. In passing I’d squeeze his shoulders to wordlessly send love directly into his skin. Thanks to mom and dad I always was an affectionate kid. Hugs and cuddles, little hip bumps while cooking in the kitchen, saying that the room was full of “hippies”. Bad joke but still makes me giggle.
We’d go to Mazzio’s pizzeria after church meetings on Sundays, adults sat around a big table together and us kids at a separate one. At some point the kids would wander off to the arcade and I’d go but get bored so always came back to the interesting grown-up conversations. There would be a handful or two of adults chatting about whatever and I’d start with mom or dad and go around the table, just listening and rubbing shoulders. Everyone was used to it, and I loved being able to sneak into their world a little bit.
Then I got married to someone who didn’t want to touch me. Refused to try, for I needed it so much I complained about it constantly. And he didn’t take me seriously. I had to grow cold to survive. To retrain myself suddenly to not need the touch I was formed by.
I’ve had the most complicated relationship with touch for 20+ years now and haven’t been able to find a way to heal it. I shy from it, because it’s so INTENSE to me.
I didn’t think of these things when I was rubbing his shoulders today, then his neck, and his scalp. He had the most beautiful hair, but this last round of radiation knocked it out. His scalp hasn’t adjusted yet and is really dry, so I went to grab some of mom’s moisturizer and rubbed it onto the skin. It was almost luxurious to be able to feel his scalp go from dry to smooth and as my fingers went over his head I watched them trace the scars from his surgeries. He’s had a hard time verbalizing but was able to turn and tell me that if he was a kitten he’d be purring. I giggled and wondered how long he’d been thinking it before he was able to get his mouth to say it. I told him I’d see him later and I had to get back to work, and to let me know if he needed anything at all. He smiled and poured himself another tall glass of milk and kept eating his cherry pie.
In talking to mom today she thanked me for rubbing his head and shoulders, she knows he needs the physical touch. And of course I told her it was good for me too, which it is.
Then it hit me. That he can gift me this before he goes. To teach me once again as I was taught as a kiddo that touch is a beautiful thing. That it’s not awful anymore, that it doesn’t have to be painful. That it can in fact soothe someone, and it can soothe me at the same time.
It has been so long. And this is the best lesson and the greatest comfort. He will be getting ALL the lovely head rubs, as long as he wants them.
A Burd in Flight 