I’m not a hugger. I’m not a hugger when I just saw you yesterday or last week or you are an acquaintance. I am not a hugger if you are someone I kind of like. I don’t know when hugging became the norm but I find it weird. But don’t think I am weird. I do like to hug. I like to hug people I love, people I like that I haven’t seen in awhile, and people that just told me their good news. But if we are coworkers or I saw you last week, don’t hug me. It’s awkward. If you are my best friend and I saw you 24 hours ago, don’t hug me.
A couple years ago, my Granny got very sick. My funny, smart, independent (despite being legally blind), active, positive Granny was dying. My Granny was not like most grandmothers. She volunteered, traveled, played cards, took me on a drunk bus tour in Aruba, and in her mid 80’s climbed to the top of the Basilica. She was fantastic. And she made you feel fantastic. When she opened the door to her house, she smiled and hugged you like you were the only person she wanted to see. I can still hear her voice and feel those great hugs.
My Granny died on an ordinary day in February that is now not so ordinary. I still cry randomly when I think about her. I feel her absence. I miss her. She was an incredibly woman and I was so sad I was numb.
My friend, Stef, gave me a card after it happened. Then, without giving me a choice, she reached out and gave me a big, comforting hug. She knew what I really needed was what I resist. I still have her card and read it from time to time but I will never forget that moment of friendship and support.
Sometimes during our darkest moments what we need most is the hardest thing to request. Those truly special people give it without being asked. – M, 32
