I’m a hugger. I think I inherited it from my mom. She may have invented hugging she is so good at it. Maybe I’m just biased being her son.
My wife and I joke about when I have “overhugged” someone who is much more on the introvert and reserved side of things than I, and definitely not a hugger. The mood can become very awkward, very quickly.
To me, hugging is one of the most vulnerable things you can do as a human. Open your arms, basically leave yourself defenseless and wrap your arms around someone fully. There are many different types of hugs. There is the bear hug (great), the side hug (not so good, or authentic), the bro hug, the handshake turned into a hug, the problematic lingering hug (yikes), and then there is hug I saw today.
My belief is that airports magnify personalities–much like real estate deals. As much time as I spend in airports, I see lots of things….complete meltdowns, arguments, boredom, frustration, exhaustion, joy, and sometimes just down right weirdness. Hugs are what I remember most. Today, walking into the CHS airport, I saw one of the best hugs I have had the privilege of witnessing.
I didn’t stare, but caught it in passing.
It was a Dad saying goodbye to his son. The son was about to go through the security line to go what I imagined was somewhere far away. The Dad was holding on with everything he had. It was a solid hug–a transfer of all the heart and hopes a Dad can muster. He was reluctantly, but proudly, sending one of the best pieces of himself out into the world. The hug was full of love, pride, and a father knowing for years that this moment was coming. It was once again a testament to the divine spark within us—there is no possible way that evolution produced such a scene. That hug, to me, was a small glimpse into the love that God has put into the world for us….and the love he has for us.
I know that same hug is coming down the tracks in a rapid fashion for me. I’m dreading it, and know that I will be completely wrecked by it. Our family does mini versions of that hug every time I leave for a trip. Those tear me up already. I hug all of them so tight, just to emphasize how much they are loved. They wriggle, and say “Daddddd!” I don’t care, they need to know. I remember being the recipient of that hug from my Dad on June 28, 1992 at the ATL airport. Won’t ever forget it.
It is a wonderfully terrible cycle that generations put themselves through…but it is all about the hopes and dreams.
Maybe there is a hug that trumps the “hopes and dreams hug”—it is the huge rejoicing bear hug of homecoming.
Hug them tight while you can.
Salt, Light, Grace & Grit
SLGG 