Almost a month into this physical distancing and I crave a hug. Not virtual, not paper, but a real live physical human hug! Being the realist that I am, I suspect I will remain hugless for some time. 

Touch starvation is a real menace, producing anxiety and depression, lowering immune systems, potentially stunting bonding and development in small babies. Just ask any NICU or geriatric nurse. 

When I first entered nursing, I worked the night shift. Often, when a patient struggled with sleep, I offered a back or foot rub. Best medicine ever.

 During post Harvey, hugs were plentiful and life giving. I remember Jerry and William’s the most; they shouted, “It’s going to be alright.” We know that’s simply impossible with this virus, but I think for many of us, that is the missing link.

Recently, I ordered badly needed shower gel online and I discovered I could still request  a retired fragrance I used on my hospice clients. I would carry  individual samples and after seeing how most patients responded to its homey fragrance,  families were delighted to run out to purchase it for their loved ones. I spent hours gently massaging edematous feet and would witness a peace wash over my patients. Many would offer deep conversation, others would weep and the most sick would breathe a little easier.  

My bottles arrived today on my worst day so far. A friend had just shared a beautiful worship song so this touch starved captive of her own home, plopped down on the floor, poured out way too much creamy brown sugar and fig, and massaged her own neglected feet as she listened to a beautiful reminder of a good God. A big ol’ wonderful foot and soul hug.  No, not a 20 second hug like one of my friends always gives me, but a self hug, the best I can do right now. 

I’ve neglected self care; I’m not very good at it. 
(Probably the nurse in me.). But I am realizing how much we all need to carve out some time for “me care” during this upheaval.

The washing of feet is not lost on me today:  Mary pouring out her costly perfume on her Master, Jesus humbly washing his disciples’ weathered feet, His charge to love and serve one another.  One day we’ll open our homes again and do a lot of hugging, I hope. For now, our ways to care for ourselves and each other are a bit subdued, somewhat unorthodox, but that’s okay too.