What will Cambria woman miss the most this Valentine’s Day? Hugs
Recently, I asked friends what physical contact they’ve missed most during the COVID-19 pandemic.
Some people I asked are alone — due to life choices or circumstances that include empty nesting, divorce, the death of a spouse or a a sequestered or deployed mate.
Even so, nearly everybody I asked — alone or not — gave me the same answer: Hugs.
That’s no surprise especially given how close we are to St. Valentine’s Day.
These days, our yearning for hugs and the ache of not having them is more universal than ever, in part because of the pandemic that’s forcing us to stay apart.
As A.C. Shilton wrote in the New York Times, “As the weeks of coronavirus quarantine stretched into months, hugs are among the many things isolated people found themselves aching for. Hugs are good for humans — perhaps more valuable than many of us realized, until we found ourselves missing them.”
But there’s more than one kind of embrace, such as your overwhelmingly loving reactions a couple of weeks ago to my column that mentioned my longing for hugs from my late husband. (Thank you for all those responses, by the way.)
I also wrote about the brief emotional lift I can get now when I cuddle Ott, my soft, silky oversized otter toy.
It must be muscle memory.
But oh my, what a kick it was to learn that many of you — even several men — have your own stuffed hug recipients!
It’s also reassuring to discover that you talk to them, just as I do, and that the hugs and chats help a bit with loneliness and an inability now to wrap your arms around that special person you miss so much.
However, I know that not everybody enjoys hugs the way my Husband Richard and I did.
After his death, Richard’s two older children told me that, when they were growing up, there hadn’t been much hugging, affectionate physical contact or demonstrativeness between family members.
Really? That didn’t compute, as I remembered my 44 years of Richard’s deep hugs and loving glances.
I treasured the simple joys of us holding hands, or walking with his arm around my shoulders and my arm around his waist.
Maybe the contrast was because my much-older husband had been raised differently than I was, in a dissimilar era and culture.
Perhaps Richard’s parents had considered hugs an invasion of personal space, as some people do. Maybe they and their children simply didn’t realize that, at least for some of us, hugs are not only desirable, they’re essential.
Then I recalled Richard saying so often how grateful he was that I had shown him that expressing his love and affection through hugs and touch was not only OK with me, it was something I needed as often as possible.
Fortunately, my husband was a passionately quick study who almost instantly embraced the joys of being demonstrative and sharing unconditional, freely expressed love.
Richard would have been so grateful for the open outpouring of caring and concern so many of you expressed after his death, extending condolences and making sure that our live-in Son Brian and I are doing OK. (We are.)
About two weeks after Richard died, the doorbell rang. Brian and I both opened the door and saw on our outdoor entry path five socially distanced, mask-wearing women.
One of them said gently, “We are teachers and retired teachers, and we want you to know we’re sorry for your loss. We care, and the community loves you.”
They were extending verbal hugs when we needed them most.
We were so overwhelmed with emotion and gratitude that it didn’t occur to me until after they’d left to ask who they were!
Fortunately, school librarian friend Shannon Sutherland has since identified those caring women: Julie Bales, Julie Castle, Linda Logan, Carol Stoner and Kolynn Younger.
Thank you, thank you! I keep the memory of that visit close, wrapping it around me like a hug when the grief gets to me.
So, do I wish I could still hug my husband for Valentine’s Day — as well as other people I love? Of course.
Somehow, though, it helps to know I’m not alone. Many of you care and yearn to embrace your missing loved ones and friends as much as I do.
Yes, our Feb. 14 will be sad this year. But that loving, unexpected visit from five busy teachers certainly qualifies as the very best Valentine hug we’ll get this year.
