I Want To Hold Your Hand

(A picture of Mr. L and I holding hands this weekend)

Why is it that the world feels so much safer when you have someone holding your hand? Maybe it's a physiologic thing that goes on (somewhere between the Kreb's Cycle and Oxadative Phosphorylation perhaps?), but I know that I physically feel more calm when holding someone's hand.....especially the hand of someone I love.

Of course, I have lots of examples of holding stranger's hands to seek comfort. Though it's not the perfect equivilent for a loved one's hand, it works.

There was the time when I was 8-years-old and had to be put under general anesthesia for a minor operation. I was truly terrified of the 'gas mask' that they were going to use to put me out. The thought of being forced to go to sleep at someone else's will scared the dickens out of me! However, one of the nurses offered her hand and told me she would hold my hand until I went to sleep. There was something about being connected to someone else (even a stranger behind a medical mask) that comforted me so greatly, that I went softly into that deep sleep.

Then there was the time that I was on an airplane flying over the desert to San Diego. I admit I am not a great flyer, and I sort of freak out during turbulence (though I have gotten much better in recent years). I was seated next to a man I did not know and had not spoken to on the flight. He was Asian and I could tell by his interactions with the flight attendant that he did not speak fluent English, so we sat there in a polite silence. The flight unexpectedly hit some rough air and I know I must have scared him with my white knuckle grip on the arms of the seat and quick gasps that I could not control. He kindly offered his hand, and I took it. I remember squeezing the devil out of it when we would make a sudden drop. Thought I was still nervous, his hand was like a safety rope that was wrapped around me, saving me from the precipice of panic. When we were once again flying smoothly, he patted my hand and gave me a reassuring smile. I think he might have been a guardian angel.

There have been numerous other strange hand encounters: one of the way up to the top of the Arch in St. Louis, one at the summit of the Chimney Tops in The Smokeys, one at the hospital after a heart incident, and I have been grateful to all who offer their hands as a source of comfort. Luckily, I have been able to return the favor to humanity a few times, and it makes me feel equally as good being the comforter as being the comfortee. (Side story not about hand holding, but leg holding: when I was working as a paramedic, we were transporting an old man with dementia. He was super confused, and aggitated, but calmed down significantly after putting his hand on my upper leg. I let him do it because it calmed him so. I thought to myself, what's the harm in letting a confused old man put his hand on a spot not normally reserved for strange men?)

Holding Mr. L's hand has the same calming effect, even if I am not holding it due to crisis or fearful situation. Holding his hand brings me back to center, reminds me that I am loved, and makes me feel secure. Like I said, it must be a physiological reaction, because I can feel the stress melt off like butter slipping down a stack of warm pancakes...

In fact, I have an idea: try holding someone's hand at every opportunity. In this time of financial and patriotic panic, I think we all need a safety rope, reminding us not to fear. After all, we have each other, and there's no better reminder than passing comfort on hand to hand, brain to brain, heart to heart.