(This is a post I wrote 10 months after Jim died. It still applies.)
This is one of those pictures that doesn't need any words about love. It's there.
This is one of those pictures that doesn't need any words about love. It's there.
OK, let me just warn you upfront. This is going to be a weird post. I'm going to try to explain something that I felt yesterday but I don't really know how to explain it, and I wonder how many people are just going to think I'm some weirdo. I've already told you that I have difficulty stating my emotions, so this post is huge. Well, for me. Probably not for you.
Yesterday while I was sitting in that chair, having my roots canaled (or rather, having my canals un-rooted), I suddenly felt very emotional. It was all I could do to stare at the ceiling very, very hard, so that I wouldn't cry. And since I spent the rest of my energy trying to keep my palms from sweating, that effort was extremely difficult.
Here's the "hard to describe" part: the endodontist sat on my right and had to work on the left side of my mouth (strenuously, as I already told you) and so my face was turned in to him. He had his left arm around my head and it worked from the left side of my mouth. His right hand, of course, worked on the right side of my mouth. But the way we were both positioned made my head almost laying against his chest. Not quite, but only about a millimeter from it.
And suddenly, I realized how much physical contact I have been missing.
Before I go any further (and I'm trying not to cry now), get your minds out of the gutter! I am not talking about sex, I'm talking about just being that close to Jim. Just resting my head against his chest. Just having his arm around me. Just having him hug me. Or hold my hand. It was another one of those blows right to the gut. It hit me very quickly -- I never saw it coming. And there I lay --- his arms wrapped around my head, my mouth pried open and several gadgets protruding from it ..... and tried to keep control of myself so that I didn't scare the poor man and his assistant and make them think they'd done something horribly wrong.
I was very proud of myself for keeping it all together.
But sometimes, when you keep it all together for a while, there comes a time when you suddenly don't.
This is that time.
I miss his touch.
Janine: T.A.N.W except -- I GET IT!!!!!!! Sigh!! :(
ReplyDeleteI now understand the saying "Love Hurts". I get it too, and miss it SO much!!
ReplyDeleteThank you Janine for saying it. 16 months and I miss SOOOOOOOO very much having my hand held, and resting my head on his chest, and the hug and kiss at the end of each day and the cuddling on the sofa watching TV together and the list goes on.......along with the pain.
ReplyDeleteYes, you forget how much you miss regular human contact and weird stuff does remind of you that. Sorry...I'm three years out and I miss it too still.
ReplyDeleteI am so grateful that you wonderful writers can describe how we all feel. I struggle with the human contact emotions every day, many times. Probably because Dan and I were together all the time because of our business and we were just an "all over each other" couple.
ReplyDeleteI remember the first moment that I realized the emotion strain that the lack of human touch had when I went to visit a neighbor and I stepped in the door and she moved my hair behind my shoulder. As simple as that was, it still sticks with me through my grief. (((hugs))) 19 months out:(
Janine..if that is weird I believe there are many of us who qualify! Thank you for sharing your feelings with us. I'm like you, it really isn't about sex.... it's about intimacy though... that love and unspoken communication you shared with your loved one. For me, my husband would just know when I needed a hug and it was the best feeling to be caught up in his arms, my face buried in his neck. I felt so safe and I miss that feeling so desperately. It's about what we built over the 30 years we were together that nothing could replace. I miss our talks and just looking into his eyes and knowing what he was thinking while he knew exactly what I was thinking. Sometimes, I can just close my eyes and feel his arm around me... it's what gets me through. Thank you again for sharing your cherished thoughts. Hugs to you!
ReplyDeletethis post strikes such a strong chord with me...i'm in my seventh year and am afraid that closeness will never reappear in my life. such a simple thing that i took for granted for so long...holding hands...i miss it so much.
ReplyDeleteIt's been a little over 4 years since my husband lost his battle with cancer. I've said so many times since then that what I miss the most about him is just being able to crawl into bed & after a goodnight kiss roll over & sleep "bottom to bottom". Physical intimacy isn't always about sex. (even though I DO miss that also!)
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad you posted this....I have moments like this all the time. Mine often happen when I wake up, and he's not next to me, and for a few minutes I remember what it felt like to roll over on my side and put my hand on his chest...it's the craziest feeling...to suddenly realize how long it's been since I've touched him, and I am rarely touched...a brief hug here and there, but not that embrace or casual pat on the but, or quick kiss, or long kiss....I realize how much I took for granted. I think you just put into words what many others feel...thank you. How is this for weird....I have his deoderant...just left it in the medicine cabinet and never moved it...along with his after shave...and I sometimes open them up and smell them....the smell reminds me of him getting ready for work, or ready to go out...and I can picture him standing in the bathroom, shaving...I don't know why I miss that, but I do..it's funny how those things that just seem part of every day life, nothing special...make me miss him more than anything.
ReplyDeleteI do get this so much. I miss the cuddling, the arm around my shoulder while shopping, his hand in mine. I miss him so. It is so hard to be "strong" all the time when I miss all this and more.
ReplyDeleteYes, this resonates with me too. After a year of my husband being gone, I find myself longing for his body..not so much sexually but lovingly, wanting to touch the familiar spots, canoodle together and feel the presence of a warm caring body in my bed. Lack of human touch exacerbates my loneliness and feelings of being unworthy. I go for massages when I can just to have some hands touch me tenderly, comforting but not the same.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing this. I'm 6 months out and this is one of things I miss the most. I didn't even know how to express it so I truly appreciate your wonderful words. Makes me feel not so alone and not weird myself.
ReplyDeleteSounds very romantic to me!
ReplyDeleteI remember a similar feeling last year before moving from San Francisco. I was having my dental appointment as well, and well, my dentist was both cute, and young. Anyway, my mind is in the gutter, I was also aware of the intimate positioning. This also came up for me at my last haircut appointment.
I think we are all starved for physical intimacy, and these situations only reinforce what we are missing. This awareness also has me hyper-sensitive to how I respond to potential new dates. I fear that I will be seeking out physical intimacy due to Michael's absence more than the other person's presence. Does that make sense?
Anyway, this was a good reminder to schedule a good "dental work-up."
Dan
I didn't realize how I missed my husband's touch until last week. I visited a dear friend whose husband is in home hospice. I hadn't seen Tim in awhile and she asked if I'd like to say hello. I came around the corner and it was like looking at my husband the last time he was in our home ... sitting in his chair, hooked to oxygen, slumped over dozing, with his walker and "pee jug" alongside. I was overwhelmed but kept it under control, except for the tears that silently slid down my face. Tim struggled to stand so he could give me a hug. I do believe that my husband was there in that hug. I felt it very profoundly and what a blessing it was.
ReplyDeleteI guess it was easier for me to fully enjoy that embrace than it would have been for you to latch onto your dentist ....