Earlier this week, America honored her service personnel on Veterans Day. I believe similar holidays were marked in other countries as well. The day found me yelling “Thank You!” out my car window as I passed uniformed soldiers. I even spent a good half hour talking with a vet outside the grocery store. That old guy told me how he’d been terribly disrespected after returning home from WWII, and had struggled to find work. His stories broke my heart. Knowing so many of our soldiers are struggling to find jobs today is the very worst example of things staying the same.
But that’s not what this post is about. This post is about a viral video, showing a homeless US vet undergoing a 2-hour make-over, time-lapsed down to 2 minutes. (If you’ve not seen it, here’s the link. It’s lovely.)
As I watched this video (a few times), I wondered how long it had been since the subject, Mr. Jim Wolf, had felt the human touch of someone cutting his hair. Of someone helping him on with his jacket. Of someone hugging him. Did the contact startle him? Did it trigger emotions? Did he even notice?
In general, I take human touch for granted. I experience it every single day of my life, and for the most part, it goes unnoticed. There are stand-outs, however. When Mister unexpectedly reaches over to touch my hand or my face, for no reason other than to feel my skin. When I see the artist Wendy Marvel and she gives me a world-class hug, and holds on. When I engage an old person in conversation, and they take my hand while sharing an intimate memory with me, and I hold on to them. Those connections rise to the top. And I love them.
And then there’s the few times a year I get my hair cut. I don’t often go, as my colorist and stylist are super-spendy (and oh so worth it). So when I do find myself at the beauty parlor, I relish their human touch. The kindness and gentle care shown by folks at the salon is felt not only by my skin receptors, but also my soul. I always, always, always take note of the fact that I am being touched by another human being, and that it is such a gift. More than once, while the hair-wash girl is massaging my scalp, I have fought back tears.
So when I watched Mr. Jim Wolf receiving something as simple as a haircut (and something as complicated as hair color), I couldn’t help but think about how long it had been since he’d had a service provider touch him – kindly. Since he’d felt the pure intent of gentle skin-on-skin contact. And it got to me. In the very best way.