She said I “touched” her by noticing we hadn’t spoken for a while and if everything was ok,

I wondered…if she was ok. 

As it turned out, Life had come rolling over leaving grief and thanksgiving for the one who had survived and the one who died after a Pancreatic Cancer illness.

So much to process in a short period of time.

 I think my friend would agree, her life has been long and rich and like all of us, she’s seen a few things.

Said goodbye a few times.

Been the one to remain, more often lately.

The idea of “touching” was the gift I received in her kindness

and maybe something to explore in a poem or words strung together.

I always pay attention to serendipitous writing prompts

 and the ways people touch is something to take notice of, too.

Just recently, a loved one committed to me in a way we were both surprised by (the possibility of it)

and I wanted to decline because I’m not used to being on the receiving end, much.

Saying yes meant our whole family would receive, even him.

I said yes. 

We were both touched by the unexpected goodness and miraculous opportunities Life has to offer, and I was touched by his love and generosity.

My heart opened which is what I’ve been wanting more.

My mother and I would often touch hands towards the end of her life, lingering, and I recall how warm and dry hers were.  And Soft. My hands are transforming into hers these days, I guess it’s no surprise. 

I was touched by her willingness to sit tight for an intimate moment, which was not in the range of her comfort zone, mostly.

I love on my grandbabies all the time. It’s a gift I give to myself and yet I’m hoping they’ll remember how much I’ve loved them, how committed I’ve been to being a presence in their lives, a person who loves them no matter what.

I wonder if they will remember my soft hands.

Joaquin touched a bunny on the head last week, while we were hanging out in town.

 It was resting in the arms of an older gentleman and there were two rascally dogs too, tangling around his feet. Apparently, the critters belonged to his son’s former girlfriend and then there was a breakup. I know there is a lesson in this story and I intend to remember for the future. Again, another writing prompt.

Sometimes touches are soft and sometimes they are invisible.

Sometimes they are loud, but they never should hurt.

Sometimes they are like a memory

Carried in our brains.

The best kind of touches

Will always be like love

and remain.


Each moment is a moment for creation…a piece of the landscape where you live with colors of vibrancy or darkness.

Each moment contributes to your painting and your story.

Be conscious to choose colors that align with your path.

Choose colors that serve you and others well.

Choose colors to radiate the energy of your chosen story.

And so we go with love…


12″ X 18″

mixed media on paper


1 thought on “Touched”

  1. Busy and BEAUTIFULLY EXPRESSED SHARING! Made my moment so much more enjoyable and fulfilling!! Thank you so much! Love always, Morgine

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