The Gift of Presence After COVID-19

Thinking about the things required of us because of COVID-19 is deeply difficult for me and my husband for many reasons. First, both of us are highly accustomed to greeting via handshakes, hugs, or a touch on the shoulder, especially if a person is upset. It may be easy to assume that this is because we are blind. After all, without the ability to see a gesture or facial expression, a sighted person may assume that touch is the next best alternative.

However, there are blind people who dislike touch; and there are sighted people who are natural touchers. This leads me to assume that touch preference is governed by factors other than blindness. I am personally content to accept that this is a facet of my and Kevin’s personality–call it part of our “love language”. I think that we would both gravitate to touch as our preferred method of expression even if we could see.

One reason why I, personally, am acutely aware of the impact of the loss of touch–and, likewise, physical nearness-is that I was painfully aware of the isolation experienced by another patient when Kevin was in the hospital recently. Up and down the hall, people’s doors were open, and we could hear their family members interacting with them. This lady had no one with her. Frequently she cried out, “O God, it hurts! I’m cold and no one cares!” She was most distressed when the nurses turned her from one side to the other to prevent development of bed sores. Nothing could prevent the experience of pain from being turned; but the feeling of pain is often lessened when family or friends are present to speak words of comfort or distraction, touch in a manner that provides comfort or relaxation, rearrange the cover, etc.

Kevin and I have both been hospitalized within the past eight years with respiratory illness. It is a great terror to both of us to imagine being hospitalized with coronavirus, knowing that this hospitalization would be an isolating experience.
We both understand the need for social distancing; but it is a difficult practice for us. I think that it will likewise be difficult for others over the long term.

Practice distance for now, but don’t forget how to be near. When this is over, there will be people who need nearness. Isolation is painful physically as well as emotionally. When the time is right, be sensitive to those who are especially in need of your presence.

About Sarah Blake LaRose

Sarah Blake LaRose teaches Biblical Hebrew and Greek at Anderson University School of Theology and Christian Ministry in Anderson, Indiana. She is one of three blind academic scholars who received the Jacob Bolotin Award from the National Federation of the Blind in 2016 in recognition of innovative work in the field of access to biblical language texts and tools for people who are blind. In addition to her work as a professor, she provides braille transcription services specializing in ancient languages. Her research interests concern the intersection of disability, poverty, and biblical studies.

About Sarah Blake LaRose

Sarah Blake LaRose teaches Biblical Hebrew and Greek at Anderson University School of Theology and Christian Ministry in Anderson, Indiana. She is one of three blind academic scholars who received the Jacob Bolotin Award from the National Federation of the Blind in 2016 in recognition of innovative work in the field of access to biblical language texts and tools for people who are blind. In addition to her work as a professor, she provides braille transcription services specializing in ancient languages. Her research interests concern the intersection of disability, poverty, and biblical studies.

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