Hold Hands With A Grandma

November 2, 2025

Kids are scattered across the beach like driftwood. Some run back and forth with the waves, tempting the fate of wet shoes on the walk home. Others have removed their footwear and socks, unable to resist splashing their feet in the water. Small pods of children move slowly with their heads down, looking for crabs and treasures washed ashore. A few premature contractors build a fort with logs softened by the water’s pounding.

The class field trip. It’s a rite of passage.

The other parent chaperones and I wander in and out of the different cliques, observing the chaos. We try to keep them from getting too wet, a fruitless exercise. We respond to every beck and call, looking at the remains of small sea creatures, heart shaped rocks, and sticks that would make excellent swords. There is a constant need to keep several little scamps from climbing the jagged rocks. Fun abounds.

Eventually, several students get bored and want to hike the shoreline. Without much thought, a few of us break off and follow the troop. Is there a clear path around the corner, or will we walk for a mile before realizing it’s a dead end? Who knows, and who cares. The kids need adventure.

One kind grandma has joined the trek, only she is struggling. Uneven ground covered in bull kelp on top of mushy sand is slowing her down. But the small sprites are on a mission, unwilling to pace themselves. Finally, we come to a steep bank, leading to an incredible viewpoint at the top of a hill. No problem for scramble-happy young ones, a big issue for addled adults.

Looking at the concern in this sweet grandma's face, I offer my hand. It was the obvious thing to do. I couldn’t let her retreat alone. She took my hand and held on tight. For a brief second, my brain whispered, “you are touching someone you don’t know, this might be weird.” Only it wasn’t. It felt great to help, and nice to hold hands. I didn’t let go until we reached the top of the hill.

People have many different reactions to physical contact. There are the huggers, and those whose hands shrink like sea anemones during a simple handshake. Even the right amount of personal space is subjective. Think Seinfeld's famous close talkers versus the people whose distance and demeanor seem to express a bad funk emanating from your presence.

This became even more confusing a few years ago with the pandemic. During that time, we all stayed away from each other. Physical distancing became a thing, and it was taboo to shake hands. Remember those cringe elbow bumps? All that was fine and necessary during a health crisis, but it doesn’t go away very easily. The unfortunate result is that we have become less connected with each other.

Fast forward a few months, and I’m by the river with the pleasant sound of water splashing over rocks as it makes its way downstream. I’m sitting on a stone bench that I recently built. Only I’m not alone. Next to me is a dear friend, who also happens to be a grandma. The bench was a project for her family. It's a personal memorial to her husband who had passed away the year before. The stone is fitting, because he was a pillar in our community.

Memories flow. The minutes tick by as we share deep thoughts about our life, both past and present. At first, she talks and I listen intently. Then we flip and I become the babbling brook. She is one of those people who make you so comfortable, that you are inevitably late to your next event. During a tender junction in the conversation, I reach over and take her hand. And I keep holding on. We are going to ride this memory together, and I want to show support with more than my ears.

I don’t know what it is about holding hands with another person, but it means something special. It speaks a kind of affection that words can’t form. Most physical contact conveys an important bond between family or close friends. In the best cases, it isn’t awkward and doesn’t take any effort because it’s routine. Like saying I love you, it’s both common and powerful every time it happens.

Every now and then, widen your circle of affection. Grandmas are the perfect people to explore this space with. Their hands are strong and well worn from a lifetime of care and affection. When you hold on tight, you receive that all-important connection to another human life. Couldn’t we all use a little more of that?