In this world, we move between expansive gestures and the smallest glimmer of bodily inflections; the wave of fingers, the raising of an eyebrow, or the slightest movement of a head. Actions can speak louder than words. Our bodies chatter away even when our lips are silent.
By holding hands we can silences even our hand noise. If we wish we can then takes away the need for further communication.
I think of the profound moments as someone awaits death. Other sense retreat and yet holding a hand continues the contact and is a conduit of presence. I am with you still!
Holding a hand while walk with someone dear – again profoundly unwordy. We are together silently communicating while our lips excitedly remain closed, fearful of passion or the wrong stupid sentence.
My grandma, old and with dementia, loved to sit hand in hand, smiling. Was she reliving all the still moments she had lived though and dreamed of somewhere deep within herself?
Hold a hand this season.