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A Touch Of Sense
Abraham Verghese
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LAST FALL I CAME HOME FROM A LONG DAY at the hospital, fell onto the sofa, put my feet up, and switched on the television. Tristan, my eleven-year-old son, soon plopped down next to me and threw his leg over mine. As we watched television together, his hand began to idly probe my ear, jiggle my thyroid cartilage (hed call it my Adams apple), tug on my nose, and ruffle my hair. He fixed his eyes on the screens images, seemingly unaware of the activities of his fingers. It was as if my body were only an extension of . . . [Full Text of this Article]
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A Healing Ritual And Bond
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