HUGS

               

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Hug

It was one of those mornings.
You know the type.

Things are tense.

Our infant son had been up all night.

My wife's eyes (along with the rest of her) were weary.

My oldest son, the five-year-old, wasn't feeling his best either.

He was slow getting ready for school.
He understandably didn't feel like going.

It was just one of those mornings.
You know the type.

As I drove him to school, he was quiet.

When parents are tense and tired, the children feel it.
They know by word and gesture when their acts and attitudes are
less tolerated.

After being fussed at, he was sullen.

It was one of those mornings.
You know the type.

I walked him to his classroom as usual.
He walked in, removed his coat and hung it up.

I usually give my son a hug before I leave him in class.
I knew today he really needed a big hug, and maybe, so did I.

He came forward with his arms outstretched.  I bowed down,
clasped my arms around him, closed my eyes and hugged him tight.

Normally, I would only hug him for two or three seconds but on
this morning, I held him tight as the seconds ticked by like
dashed lines on the highway.

All of a sudden, I felt him get heavier.

Still clinging to my son, I opened my eyes.  I understood why he
had gotten heavier.  His feet were off the ground.  He had
curled his legs up and his heels were only inches away from his
backside.

He clung.

I clung.

Sometimes in life no words are needed.  The Moment
is stated in a feel and a fold.  As he folded his legs up and
trusted his father to carry all of his weight, he didn't get
heavier to my spirit.

I actually felt lighter.

It was a ritual repeated countless times through countless years
from countless parents to countless children.

The touch and embrace between a parent and a child, make them
both feel more secure.

It was one of those mornings.
You know the type.


~A MountainWings Original~