I Miss Hugs

I'm a touchy person. I wouldn't have defined myself that way a year ago, but in the absence of casual touch, I realize that physical touch might actually be one of my love languages. 

I have a friend Colleen who is the best hugger I know. It's not just me that thinks so; you can ask anyone who knows her. She is a tiny person, but when she wraps her arms around you, you feel enveloped and safe. I think it's intuition for Colleen, but there's research that supports these kind of full-body hugs (The Power of Hugs). 

It's not just hugs either. I realize that I give my friend's pats on the backs kind of a lot. I reach out and put my hand on someone's arm to show them I'm listening. It has been in the absence of these gestures that I realized how often I do them. 

Yesterday I saw one of my very best friends at Kroger. Katie and I have had a few socially distanced get togethers at the parking lot of the middle school throughout quarantine, backing our vans up trunk to trunk. In January, Katie and another close friend came over and we drank hot chocolate on my front porch while spaced out, soaking up the sun and huddled under blankets. Their company was a balm, almost as good as a hug.

I remember running into Katie at the same Kroger a year ago. She was already wearing a mask, and I was in that in between phase of being cautious but not wearing one yet. It was the first time I remember hesitating and then not hugging someone. 

Yesterday though, felt different. Maybe it's because I'm half-way vaccinated. Maybe it's because we were both masked. Maybe it's because Katie's parents are vaccinated, and everything just feels a little more hopeful. So when Katie said, "Can I hug you?" I didn't hesitate.   

I've started hugging people again. Not everyone, but a few people, the Katies and Colleens in my life (as long as they're comfortable too, of course. Consent is consent, even between two middle-ish aged women). It feels good to connect with people in small ways. 

I'm not sure we'll feel normal for a long time, but it's nice to have moments that remind us of what normal was like, of what we're all striving back towards. I hope you're all (safely) finding small moments of normal too.