Since March, I have hugged two people besides Tim. One was by mistake. The other was a choice.
The first was on August 25, Tim and my 34th legal anniversary. Our dear friend Paul, now 80 years old, is the only person who annually recognizes it—our families certainly wouldn’t know when it is (we had a wedding October 11). Every year he leaves us a bottle of wine and some goody, cheese or jam or something, with a lovely note. This year, I caught him at it—I was rushing out the back door and nearly ran him over as he was leaving the gift. He had just hosted a jazz concert in his backyard for his friends and clients—that’s another story—three days before. I was so surprised and touched, I just threw my arms around him.
Ooops.
But it was the right thing to do.
Eleven days later, we hosted an outdoor pancake breakfast for a friend, her daughter, and her daughter’s girlfriend. The daughter and girlfriend have been living with our friend this summer as the fate of their college attendance was decided. The girlfriend’s mom and mom’s wife were moving from one part of the country to another, and she (daughter’s girlfriend) decided to take a year off and move out there with them. We had grown very fond of the girlfriend and wanted to say goodbye, so we hosted the breakfast. Tim makes incredible fluffy buttermilk pancakes.
The girlfriend was getting on a plane and leaving the next day, and when she was about to go, she opened her arms for a hug, and I went in.
It was a choice. It was great. And I may never see her again, after all.
Hugs. I don't consider myself a huggy person, but I really miss them. My first pandemic hug was when Andrew set off on his bike ride to Asheville on Memorial Day. My second was when I hugged Alex when she and Andrew were very sad about the apartment they'd put a deposit on sight-unseen was not the ideal apartment they'd been expecting (really really awful) and they'd have to start the search over, spend longer with us than planned and not get to Pittsburgh when they'd planned. Since then I've been less wary about hugging Andrew and Alex. My third was when my best friend stopped by just before she left to move to Seattle.
ReplyDeleteI haven't been hugging anyone, but I'm not a huggy person so I'm almost glad for the excuse... but unless you're sneezing or coughing or talking or yodelling while your hugging, it seems like kind of a low-risk activity to me. So good on you for making a great choice.
ReplyDeleteI too am glad you've made the choice. We've been hugging here since May - though had a brief few weeks when we weren't supposed to, but we stayed with friends and forgot. Not that I'm a particularly huggy person, but I think I would miss it if I couldn't. Sending safe, virtual hugs, dear IB.
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