Touch

Deep breath
in so slow
and out so fast
left feeling empty
afraid and cold
wondering if you're thinking
thinking of me too
breathing out,
watching it turn
to clouds of steam
and fade in the air
eyes closed in an attempt
to recall your eyes
the pure blue beauty
of the way you look at me
hold me there
until I think I may shake
or cry
or break with everything
everything I feel
have felt
will feel
there in your arms
open them again,
watch the moon shine
soft gold and silver on clouds
heading down the hazy horizon
wondering what you're doing
hoping you're all right
and somewhere thinking of me

Yesterday I paused outside the deli in my office building to let pass a rather harried looking mother pushing a stroller loaded with a variety of shoulder bags and a small little girl.

My mind was elsewhere and I never actually saw what caused it, but halfway through this narrow doorway a wheel of the stroller caught on the threshold and tipped the entire load forward. Caught off balance and a little pre-occupied herself, this young lady lost her grip and the stroller pitched forward, spilling the contents of several bags and one very frightened brown hair child.

Instinct took over and as anybody would do, my first reaction was to lift this baby to my shoulder, pat her on the back and console her. I couldn't get over how light she was or how strange it was that she didn't look around for her mother. She just cried and stared directly at the wall and never turned her head in any direction.

Despite her small stature, May, as I would later learn her name was, nearly choked me with her grip, as she frantically held onto my shirt and neck. Never responding to my voice, May pressed her face into my hands as I stroked her hair and wiped the tears from her wide brown eyes.

It only took a second or two for her mother to free the stroller from the doorway and race to my side, but May would not let go of my shoulder and hand so I told her mother to go ahead and get her things together while I held the baby.

I had resumed my attempt at calming the baby when her mother turned and said, "She can only hear you if you put her ear to your chest, she's also deaf."
Also?

I turned my head to stare into this beautiful little girl’s eyes, and saw... nothing... no response... no reaction.

This frail, frightened child was blind and deaf, her only window to the world was through touch.

I stroked her cheek and was given a hopeful smile through her tears, I tickled her under the chin, and she giggled and placed her head on my shoulder and sighed. My heart was broken as could only think of Arianna. I thought of how often she fell asleep to Zura and I singing to her or how often I catch her looking out of the corner of her eye at me and laughing when I wink or make a face. Would she ever know the joy and love in her home if she couldn't see or hear it? Could I show her how much she means in my life just by touch alone? How often had I said, "I love you, Good night" without a hug or a kiss?

We all know how important touching can be, we all know the peace that settles into your heart after a warm hug, but could any of us convey complex emotions like sadness, joy, sympathy or love through touch alone?

Did this little girl know that I was a stranger, someone she had never been near before? Did she even have a concept of different people at all? Could she tell her mother apart from any other woman? And then all these question where answered in one quick second. Her mother took her from me and nuzzled her neck and hugged her.

The look on that child's face answered all and then some.

Of course she could.

I stood there watching May being buckled back into her seat and tried my best not to cry in the hallway of my office. I pray that this mother can somehow get through to her little girl over the only bridge available, and I pray that I will never have to try.