Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Never Stop Holding Hands

Sunday morning, as I sat in church next to Mike, he reached over and took my hand.

This is not a news flash of epic proportions.
This is not an unusual occurence.
This is not an action that shocked me.

This is the type of love that Mike and I share. We hold hands in church. He puts his hand on my leg as he is driving down the road. He puts his arm around me in the movie theater. We touch, we are reassured by the touch of the one we love. We yearn for, and thrive off of, that simple touch.

I can remember when I was a child, sitting in the back seat of the family car, and seeing my dad and mom holding hands in the front seat as we drove down the road. I can remember the kids teasing them, and one of my siblings threatening to write a book called "Hanky Panky in the Front Seat". I remember the feeling of security that I felt when I saw that joining of hands, that intertwining of fingers. The world was okay, we would be safe, our family would be secure, because Mom and Dad were holding hands. I have wondered from time to time how long prior to their divorce did they stop holding hands?

I also remember my father telling me when I saw a teenager that if you wanted your marriage to last, if you want to make sure you don't ever "fall out of love", that you have to work on it, that it takes a committment, that you have to hold onto that love with tenacity.

"Most importantly", he told me, "never stop holding hands".

It went far beyond the simple act of holding hands. He was telling me to always be the one to reach out to your husband or wife, always be willing to be there, communicate your feelings in a touch. But he was also telling me to never lose the magic of that simple communication. Never get so busy in your life that you neglect to enjoy the simple moments. There is no wealth, no house, no toys, that are worth sacrificing the surreal peace that can be found in a pair of clasped hands.

There is a magic in Mike's touch. In the greatest times of stress in my life, I have been able to escape away from it all into the grip of his hand on mine. The rest of the world can fade away until it is only his hand in mine. I know that I will be safe, I will be protected, I will be loved and cherished, and all this is communicated through my husband reaching out his hand and taking hold of mine.

1 comment:

  1. The magic moves both ways, m'love! Wonderful read.