Tuesday, June 2, 2020

Art of hugging

Oh, how I miss them. How I miss wrapping my arms around my family. This is not only a virus that takes from the body. It truly robs the heart.

I have been going through old pictures, putting names on the back, so no one else will have to do the research or be in generations that don't remember. Truly, it takes me down memory lane. I find a family tree unfold that was once hidden. I look for resemblances and pictures of homes now gone. I see generations of people who barely touched, let alone hug. Thank goodness I was raised with parents who loved to hug.

Of course, in this mass of several hundred pictures of at least five generations, I find that my generation learned to hug and say the words 'I love you'. We didn't just say it to family. No, we said it to relatives and friends. I remember my uncle lying in a hospital bed with only me for company. I don't think I ever had a serious conversation with him. "I love you, Uncle Keith". He looked at me quizzically, "Really? You do, huh?" Well, that made an already awkward situation more awkward. I didn't back down but was happy when my relief person arrived. (BTW, I hugged him before I left and deposited a big, fat kiss on his cheek.)

In going through the pictures, I smiled at each hug I had with my loved ones. They are the dearest memories in photo form, in heart memory. Gabby always snuggles in my arms even though she is 18. Sydney at 21 always sits close to me and hugs with such truth. Emma and Nolan love to have me sit between them. I often find one of these twins age 7 creeping up onto my lap. We hold hands and have long chats, usually over tea. Pictures. They capture it all and speak of love.

My husband Loren commented on the way I look in all of the many pictures of me hugging people....there are quite a few. I told him it was because I mean each and every hug. They represent love and affection. To lose it would be losing part of my spirit. Virtual hugs are just not the same. The act of hugging is not to receive but to give.

With the twins getting older and more independent, I find that pats on the head, a hand on the back, a lucky squeeze suffice more than not. And then someties you get a surprise.

Nolan hopped on his bike. He didn't have much to say. He was pulling out onto the street and quickly looked back, "I love you, MeMe." I was just hugged.

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