I think through this quarantine, I was MOST afraid of having to go to the hospital to die alone. I believe a lot of people were afraid to be sick, afraid to see a doctor, afraid of going to a hospital. Hospitals have never been great places to spend time, but now — alone — they are terrifying.
I wander into the kitchen… the world is silent except for the little grunting noises Ani makes as I cuddle her good morning. I don’t speak dog fluently, but I have a feeling these short, low grunts are an expression of affection; you only ever hear them during cuddles and that is how we start our day, the small dog and I.
As the kettle boils I think about the number of people who are, of necessity, home alone this Christmas and New Year, banned from cuddles, separated from their loved ones by regulations and, ironically, a desire to protect their health. When cuddles are good for health. A twenty-second cuddle, I remember reading, does you the world of good on so many levels. I couldn’t recall all the science behind it, but I was prepared to agree unquestioningly that cuddles are good for you. Just having someone close enough…
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