My 17 year old is taking a Spanish class at our local college. Three days a week she is out the door just after 7 am for that class. I am not an early riser. But this morning I managed to straggle out to the living room just as she was preparing to leave. As I pulled bread dough out of the fridge to knead and let rise, we exchanged a few words. Then she gathered up her things and headed for the door. I had the urge to hug her, but my hands were full of bread dough and she was moving in the hurried way of someone trying not to be late. So I contented myself with an ‘I love you’ just before the garage door slammed. After reading this: The Importance of Touch, I wish I had gone for the hug.