I'm not talking about the heart-skips-a-beat-jumping-fences-kissing-the-skies kind of stuff. Yuckity yuck yuck, thank you kindly but absolutely no thank you good sir, I'll be leaving that until I'm middle aged and at least slightly emotionally equipped for it.
I'm talking about something that my fingertips had never met before. The feeling of a baby doing a little dance in his mama's belly when sensing the need for a wee party trick.
I cried. Right there in the Starbucks with my hand on my best friend's belly. My throat suddenly had kermit living in it and my eyes got all watery and the corners of my mouth were pinned to my cheekbones. Every single experience I've had watching this new life form has been a game changer but there's something about physical feeling.
There's something about touch, about physically knowing something and not just mentally processing. It got me thinking about how much hope a simple flutter can bring. A hand on your back or quietly slipped into yours, a head resting on your shoulder, a hug, a kiss, a baby moving under your palm for the very first time.
Reach out. Bring hope. Be the flutter. The reminder that life is beautiful and that it's really right in front of you. Be a physical reminder for someone today that there is so much happiness and light to be found in a world so seemingly riddled with woes and sorrows. All it takes is a touch.