I sat beside the hospital bed of a friend I loved as nearly as I love my own soul. I watched as doctors administered medication that would take him close to the brink of death in an effort to save his life. Helplessly I asked what I could do. “Just hold my hand” came the reply. Hands clasped and eyes held as silence spoke what words could not utter. Comfort.
From the wheelchair our daughter’s hand reaches out to clasp the hand of one who walks beside her. Another pushes the chair and does for her what she cannot do for herself. Yet from her seated position, she reaches out to any other human being walking close enough to be touched. Connection.
Walking side by side my husband and I join hands enjoying the evening air. Riding in the car, often in silence, his hand reaches over and takes mine. Standing together in a congregation, I slip my hand in his. Companionship.
For the rest of the article, click on the following link
(Today was my day to be featured on the MomHeart Online blog)