It occurred to me that the hands must be one of the most sensitive and communicative of parts of the human body. Obviously, their uses are multitudinous, too many to try to list here, but what an amazing network of nerve-endings they must be. Just think about it a bit. In everyday life, we depend on them for everything and in our relationships, how thrilling is it to hold hands for the first time with a boyfriend, to hold the tiny hand of a baby or to offer one finger for a trusting toddler to hold to stabilize its first tottering steps. How nice is it to still hold hands with your partner of forty years plus? What about holding the hand of a comatose patient in a hospital, or just to give comfort for someone who is sick. And holding the hand of someone who is dying. I regret to this day, that I couldn't be there for my dad when he passed away in England, and that although my mother looked into my eyes when she died in her own bed and pretty bedroom, supported by my brother who was trying to give her a drink of water, I was not holding her hand, I was doing my knitting and asking her to help me with a mistake I thought I had made. I did not have a tactile relationship with my mother and I am sorry. I try hard to rectify that with my own daughter and grandchildren. It's so important and actually hard for me, as I didn't know it myself. Luckily, and seemingly by an Act of God, I have stumbled across a husband who loves physical contact and is unselfconsciously affectionate. I am so grateful.