Posted on March 30, 2020 at 8:07 AM by Jason Macoviak
We’ve all learned so many new things from living in the midst of a global pandemic, haven’t we?
Like how to wash our hands with scalding water while singing Happy Birthday; that we, in fact, are “the elderly” the statisticians keep referring to; and of course, that our friends and neighbors appear to have a need to keep their bums obsessively clean.
But the most crushing thing I’ve learned is that I may not be able to live much longer without hugging – I miss it so much it hurts. Now when I see a friend shopping at Safeway or walking their dog on the Vista, I make that instinctive first move forward, arms outstretched… and then shrink back in horror with an intake of breath just before I break the six foot social distancing barrier.
I realize now how much I love body contact with other humans… warm soft bodies, bony birdlike bodies, big bubba bodies, puppy-like kid bodies. I just miss it. I even love to ride the “micro”in Nepal – these are the ancient vans, bashed up, held together with duct tape and priestly prayers – that serve as the main public transportation in the Kathmandu valley. We ride squished together on the rock hard seats, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder, in steamy weather and icy weather, but there’s none of the staring into space lack of eye contact we’d expect in the western world. Rather there’s physical acknowledgement that we’re all in this tin can together. Once we all cheered when someone counted and announced that we had squeezed 31 people into the micro that runs from Godavari to Lagankhel - hooray!
Hugs are an essential mode of communication for me, which I was reminded of yesterday when I accompanied my friend (in separate cars for social distancing) to Cave Creek Campground over in Portal. This was a mission of mercy that couldn’t wait because her big sweet old lovely dog is literally on his last legs and she wanted to give him one last chance to visit his favorite place and splash in the river one more time. I watched helplessly, maintaining social distance, as she tugged him down the rocky bank, his poor old legs trembling until he tumbled joyfully into the water. We could only exchange teary glances – eye to eye instead of heart to heart – leaving us with a loneliness like a hunger.
I reach out to your hungry hearts - hugs to all.