As I get older, I find myself occasionally wishing for my Mom’s embrace. I was blessed that my Mom was very free with sharing her incredible hugging self and with her love for her children. She had a lot of love for everyone actually and I strive to follow in her footsteps. In fact, when we used to talk on the phone, she would repeat, “I love you,” more times than ‘necessary’ at the end of every conversation – if only at the time I weren’t so impatient to get off the phone and hurry to finish (whatever) for now’s the time I’d be so grateful to hear her tell me that once more.
Being loved is a blessing. Feeling loved has a different nuance to it for me. I felt my Mom’s love. She loved me with her whole heart. She would help in any way possible. Before the Alzheimer’s weakened her too far at the end, she was still my biggest fan and her hugs were the ones that kept me going when I needed extra love and support. That comfort, that not stopping the hug until I did, even when perhaps it went too long, my Mom never gave up. She never released my embrace until I did. Later on in life when it was me who was taking care of her, I never released the embrace until she did. I often wondered if she knew I was doing as she’d taught me.
Now that I’m a Mom, I do the same with my sons and my friends and family. Since my open heart surgery 10 weeks ago, I hug even more often (if that’s possible). There’s something special about hugs heart to heart that physically, mentally and emotionally heals us. For the giver and the receiver…
Because we all just want to be loved. To be held and comforted. To be seen. To be supported. To be hugged until we’re ready to let go.
I’ve got you. I understand.