Tonight continues my commitment to more love and less fear this year. For February, I am writing a love letter each day. Tonight is dedicated to …hugs.
Thank you for letting me be one of you, and belong to the hug tribe.
I am a bonafide “hugger” and hail from a long line of huggers.
Mama Sling was a hugger — no one was able to leave her sight without a hug. No one was able to step foot inside our house without a hug.
Mama Sling hugs were the best kind ever invented. All of her hugs — the ones that came right before bed and the ones that came just as I woke in the morning — were special, snuggly cocoons. Even the ones that came right after I was scolded or had my nose relegated to a corner, felt like magic.
There have been other noteworthy hugs over my lifetime.
Like the hugs at weddings and the hugs at funerals.
The hugs on Christmas morning.
The hugs around a campfire circle.
The hugs in a huddle right before a game.
There was that group hug that held up my wobbly legs when I crossed the finish line of the Twin Cities Marathon (thank you Lisa, Laura and Matt!).
And, there was that hug the enveloped my heart, in Justin’s arms, as we sat on a rock along the Oregon coastline. In that hug, that is forever frozen in time, I knew for the first time in my life that I was home.
Then, there was the hug of all hugs.
With Mama Sling in an airport just before I stepped on a plane to fly away, somewhere deep inside my soul I knew it was my last hug with her. A few months later, Mama Sling eternally flew off to the other side before I could hug her one more time.
And, even though she is gone, the hugging goes on. Because that’s the job of a hugger — to hug, and be hugged, and to share the love.
And, that’s why I love and adore you, dear hugs.
Pass it on.
P.S. I also love this take in Positive Psychology on the power of hugs, you can read it here.