Our middle daughter who is twenty-one, has no shame in asking for hugs.
Rarely a day goes by when she is home in which she does not request I hug and hold her.
It matters not what I am doing, typing, cooking, eating, about to fall asleep, she can appear stating, “I want a hug. Will you hold me?”
I must admit, that on more than on occasion of her making this request, I have sighed and thought, “What? Now? Can’t you see I’m busy?”
And yet always I stop and provide the hug.
What’s even more interesting is that I never regret doing this.
Most recently an amazing thing occurred.
I was typing, in fact creating a blog post. Our middle as usual, walked into the study, where my door had been closed, and yeah, you got it–“Mom, I want a hug.”
“Give me a moment,” I said. I really needed to finish the sentence and write another one to complete my thought, both of which I did.
I then swiveled around. Our twenty-one year old daughter, now a college junior knelt. We embraced. I patted and rubbed her back.
Her last ten days had been stress-filled. An array of college roommate problems mixed with an intense period of mid-term exams left her drained. I acknowledged this while rubbing her back.
We breathed in, both of us relaxing. I took in the aroma of her hair. I closed my eyes, settled.
And then, tightening her hold on me, our daughter patted my back, rubbed my shoulders. Spaces hardened by time, softened, my chest took in more air, sank in more deeply when I exhaled.
I felt healed of one more injury, one last incision created by some careless word delivered by my mother or some thoughtless teenager with whom I had attended high school.
The wounds of life, in the moments of our middle daughter holding me as I held her, did not ache so much.
I held on tighter.
And life felt good.
Tags: college junior, daughter, Healing and Our Middle Daughter ..., holding, hug, incision, injuries, mid-term exams, Middle North Falls Silver Falls State Park, mother, Of Hugs, Oregon, roommate problems, stress, teenage, todd, wound