Yi, I thought of this piece when I spent the night in my mom's hospital room last week, "sleeping" on a recliner next to her bed, holding her hand much of the time. <3
That’s hard. I learned to smuggle in small pillows for my neck and back and put lovely smelling hand cream on all hands without an IV in them - to override the hospital odor. Hope she is comfortable and serene.
Hand-holding is a beautiful thing in all its permutations. Far more intimate and loving than “firmly” shaking hands.
Now a widower with no wife or “girl friend” or grandchildren with whom to have a hand to hold, I’m much more aware of it when I see it. And miss it.
Seeing pre-schoolers spontaneously holding hands on the way to the park and the play they have ahead is so much fun. Seeing a father and his young daughter holding hands in rapt conversation brings back memories of me and mine. Seeing a father holding hands with his pre-teen son warrants respect for both. Seeing a teenage couple tenderly holding hands gives me hope. Seeing a middle-aged couple holding hands after the theater surprises and touches me. Seeing and elderly couple holding hands crossing the street warms my heart and saddens me a bit. I used to have that. Seeing an elderly parent holding hands with a younger son or daughter comforts me. Seeing a home-health aide affectionately hold the hand of a patient relieves me. The patient is not alone in that moment.
I envy cultures where adult friends of either sex can hold hands without notice.
Holding hands is a wondrous thing. It doesn’t cost a penny. It says so much.
We don't treasure the little things in life enough until we lose that opportunity, do we? The world would be a much better place if we spent the same amount of time and energy texting and surfing the net, meeting each other in real life, and, better yet, holding hands.
I so agree. I think young people today are more comfortable about having sex with strangers than about holding hands with friends. You may like my memoir “Men as Friends”. It’s targeted to men but women like it too. Its message applies to everyone. 💐
I've never read from Oldster Mag or you before but I had to click this immediately the notification landed on my phone. Don't know why but this is the most down to earth work I've read all month. You know people say care and love flashes right before our eyes once we know we've lost something? I believe that's true. You and your mom shared a very special relationship. It reminds me of me and my dad's but he's been gone for 20 years now.
I cried reading the last bits of this. She was such a gorgeous and gracious woman. You're just as amazing. Holding Hands is a beautiful body of work. Thanks for sharing this.
Thank you so much, Ral! Reading your comment made me tear up! Yes, isn’t it true that we don’t know how blessed we are until we’ve lost something, and we don’t truly know how powerful our love is until we’ve grieved?
Again, thanks for reading! (And if you read “Love without words” on my Substack, I’d love to hear from you!)
What a beautiful essay. I remember once when I was frustrated that my mother couldn’t figure out some technology I found so simple, and she said, “Hey—be patient. I taught you how to tie your shoes.” She’s been gone for almost three years, and I miss her every day.
I am right there with you, Elisa! Thanks for reading! It’d be three years this August since my mom left. It took me a year before I could write about the love between us, the kind of love that we never expressed through words.
Do you know the Loudon Wainwright song “In the Hospital”? It carried a medical saga like this one, recounting a family’s ins and outs in the medical world, with tragedy around every corner, administered by professionals. It’s a scary reality: mediating life’s most tender moments when they become medical issues. Heart rending, literally sometimes.
I'm not sure why, but I was reminded of TS Eliot's lines form East Coker:
The wounded surgeon plies the steel
That questions the distempered part;
Beneath the bleeding hands we feel
The sharp compassion of the healer's art
Resolving the enigma of the fever chart.
Our only health is the disease
If we obey the dying nurse
Whose constant care is not to please
But to remind of our, and Adam's curse,
And that, to be restored, our sickness must grow worse.
The whole earth is our hospital
Endowed by the ruined millionaire,
Wherein, if we do well, we shall
Die of the absolute paternal care
That will not leave us, but prevents us everywhere.
But most of all I was reminded that when all the treatment plans are forgotten and unused medications thrown away, what we will remember are the human connections between us, from caregiver to patient, from mother to daughter and from child to parent.
Thank you, Jeffrey, for the TS Eliot quote and your tender reverie! ♥️
I was indeed throwing away unused medications and old medical notes, and canceling appointments. In the midst of doing that, all I could think of, was her (and my) struggle about keeping the medication schedule and planning for the doctor visits ... And I remembered her telling me that when I was little, I seemed always to get sick right before her paycheck arrived and that my fever would not subside unless we paid a visit to the hospital ...
This captures something so tender about caregiving: the way roles change, but the need for closeness stays the same. Sometimes presence is not about doing more, but about finding ways to remain near.
Yi Xue 姐姐, tears are leaking out of my eyeballs. What a beautiful piece - you are brilliant 🫶 I can feel the love you both shared for each other in your words. How lucky that you both had each other in this lifetime ✨
Yi, I thought of this piece when I spent the night in my mom's hospital room last week, "sleeping" on a recliner next to her bed, holding her hand much of the time. <3
♥️ ♥️ ♥️
I hope your mom feels better soon, Sari! 🙏
Thank you, Yi!
That’s hard. I learned to smuggle in small pillows for my neck and back and put lovely smelling hand cream on all hands without an IV in them - to override the hospital odor. Hope she is comfortable and serene.
Hand-holding is a beautiful thing in all its permutations. Far more intimate and loving than “firmly” shaking hands.
Now a widower with no wife or “girl friend” or grandchildren with whom to have a hand to hold, I’m much more aware of it when I see it. And miss it.
Seeing pre-schoolers spontaneously holding hands on the way to the park and the play they have ahead is so much fun. Seeing a father and his young daughter holding hands in rapt conversation brings back memories of me and mine. Seeing a father holding hands with his pre-teen son warrants respect for both. Seeing a teenage couple tenderly holding hands gives me hope. Seeing a middle-aged couple holding hands after the theater surprises and touches me. Seeing and elderly couple holding hands crossing the street warms my heart and saddens me a bit. I used to have that. Seeing an elderly parent holding hands with a younger son or daughter comforts me. Seeing a home-health aide affectionately hold the hand of a patient relieves me. The patient is not alone in that moment.
I envy cultures where adult friends of either sex can hold hands without notice.
Holding hands is a wondrous thing. It doesn’t cost a penny. It says so much.
Oh, you have said it so wonderfully! ♥️
We don't treasure the little things in life enough until we lose that opportunity, do we? The world would be a much better place if we spent the same amount of time and energy texting and surfing the net, meeting each other in real life, and, better yet, holding hands.
I so agree. I think young people today are more comfortable about having sex with strangers than about holding hands with friends. You may like my memoir “Men as Friends”. It’s targeted to men but women like it too. Its message applies to everyone. 💐
I will check it out!
👍🏻🙏🏻
👩🏼🤝👩🏻👬👫🏻 👩🏾🤝👨🏻👩🏼🤝👨🏾❤️
Love it. Thanks. 🙏🏻🪷
Thank you for reading! 🙏
Well said. Thank you for your meditation on holding hands.
Hello Yi...
I've never read from Oldster Mag or you before but I had to click this immediately the notification landed on my phone. Don't know why but this is the most down to earth work I've read all month. You know people say care and love flashes right before our eyes once we know we've lost something? I believe that's true. You and your mom shared a very special relationship. It reminds me of me and my dad's but he's been gone for 20 years now.
I cried reading the last bits of this. She was such a gorgeous and gracious woman. You're just as amazing. Holding Hands is a beautiful body of work. Thanks for sharing this.
Thank you so much, Ral! Reading your comment made me tear up! Yes, isn’t it true that we don’t know how blessed we are until we’ve lost something, and we don’t truly know how powerful our love is until we’ve grieved?
Again, thanks for reading! (And if you read “Love without words” on my Substack, I’d love to hear from you!)
This is beautiful. Thank you.
Thanks, Mara! 🙏
What a beautiful essay. I remember once when I was frustrated that my mother couldn’t figure out some technology I found so simple, and she said, “Hey—be patient. I taught you how to tie your shoes.” She’s been gone for almost three years, and I miss her every day.
I am right there with you, Elisa! Thanks for reading! It’d be three years this August since my mom left. It took me a year before I could write about the love between us, the kind of love that we never expressed through words.
This brings me to gentle tears . . .
Thank you, 🙏 Jan!
Also, also, the power in those photographs! I’m so glad you included them.
Likewise! Her mom was a gorgeous young woman.
Aw, thanks, Ann! You've made me smile, my Mom would've too! ♥️
Thank you, Christine! I have Sari to thank for including my writing (and my beautiful Mom) in her Oldster!
So delicate and true; a lovely emotional painting made of small, important moments. Thank you so much.
Thank you so much, Erika! Life is made of small moments, and we may not realize that every moment is a treasure until we look back.
I so agree; the older I get, the more I focus on being conscious of this treasure chest that is every day’s moments.
Wonderful read. So enjoyed when you said you were glad doctor didn’t speak your Mom’s language. And yet you answered. What beautiful words!
Thank you, Cheryl!! 🙏
Do you know the Loudon Wainwright song “In the Hospital”? It carried a medical saga like this one, recounting a family’s ins and outs in the medical world, with tragedy around every corner, administered by professionals. It’s a scary reality: mediating life’s most tender moments when they become medical issues. Heart rending, literally sometimes.
Thank you, Peter! You’ve put it right - those tender moments are sometimes heart-rending!
I actually didn’t know about Loudon Wainwright and his songs (apparently, he wrote more about hospitals), I will check them out!
Thanks for reading!
Moving, heartbreaking, and so well written. Thanks so much for this.
Thank you so much for reading, and letting me know how it made you feel! It means a lot to me.
Yi Xue is such an evocative writer; I love her Substack and highly recommend it to Oldster readers.
Yes, she is!
Thanks, Bette! I have Sari to thank for encouraging me to write and start my own substack!
I found this very moving, Yi.
I'm not sure why, but I was reminded of TS Eliot's lines form East Coker:
The wounded surgeon plies the steel
That questions the distempered part;
Beneath the bleeding hands we feel
The sharp compassion of the healer's art
Resolving the enigma of the fever chart.
Our only health is the disease
If we obey the dying nurse
Whose constant care is not to please
But to remind of our, and Adam's curse,
And that, to be restored, our sickness must grow worse.
The whole earth is our hospital
Endowed by the ruined millionaire,
Wherein, if we do well, we shall
Die of the absolute paternal care
That will not leave us, but prevents us everywhere.
But most of all I was reminded that when all the treatment plans are forgotten and unused medications thrown away, what we will remember are the human connections between us, from caregiver to patient, from mother to daughter and from child to parent.
Thank you, Jeffrey, for the TS Eliot quote and your tender reverie! ♥️
I was indeed throwing away unused medications and old medical notes, and canceling appointments. In the midst of doing that, all I could think of, was her (and my) struggle about keeping the medication schedule and planning for the doctor visits ... And I remembered her telling me that when I was little, I seemed always to get sick right before her paycheck arrived and that my fever would not subside unless we paid a visit to the hospital ...
This captures something so tender about caregiving: the way roles change, but the need for closeness stays the same. Sometimes presence is not about doing more, but about finding ways to remain near.
Beautifully put! Thank you for reading and seeing the perspectives from both the caregiving and receiving sides!
Yi Xue 姐姐, tears are leaking out of my eyeballs. What a beautiful piece - you are brilliant 🫶 I can feel the love you both shared for each other in your words. How lucky that you both had each other in this lifetime ✨
Thank you, Steph 妹妹！Thank you for your kind words, they mean a lot to me!
So beautifully written and touching! 👍👍🥰
Thanks for reading! 🙏