I had this goal of blogging at least once a week. I’ve already blown that, but to try and stay somewhat on track, I will now write about mostly nothing.
I was thinking about great hugs the other day. A friend gave me one of those tight-squeeze-from-the-bottom-of-their-heart hugs and it caught me completely off guard. I really needed it, and the fact that someone could sense that meant a lot to me.
I started thinking about the memorable hugs in my life. There are three that jump out at me. The DH isn’t on this list, because that wouldn’t be fair. Of course he gives the best hugs. I’m thinking of the ones that sneak up on you. Those really stick with you.
Like when I lost it at my friend’s funeral. Dougie let me fold myself into him, and he kept me, literally, from falling to the ground. He would hold me up. It would eventually be alright.
Or then there was when I found out I needed a root canal right after I told my (very Catholic) Dad I was going to be living in sin with the DH. I couldn’t hold back the tears, and my Dad took me into a heartfelt, though slightly awkward, hug that reminded me that no matter what I did, he would love me, and that was exactly what I needed to know.
The last one I won’t share. Not for any particular reason…I don’t tell y’all everything.