HUGS

Those of you who know me are aware that I am a hugger. Always have been. I discovered a big secret years ago: you can’t give a hug without getting one.

This past year has been very hard on those of us who are affectionate. We are people who need people. And we want to be with them in person.

A year in virtual isolation has been difficult for us.

Larry and I got our second vaccinations several weeks ago. It felt like the beginning of hope. It felt like the promise of being with friends and family again.

From the start, we chose to follow the science. We paid attention to CDC and NIH. guidelines. We listened to Dr. Fauci. We read the studies and papers written by scientists. No personal biases. No opinions. No emotional rants. Just facts.

We also listened to friends who were treated for COVID. We followed their treatment. We followed their therapy post-disease. And we mourned those who did not survive.

At this point, we are willing to be together with fully vaccinated friends and family members for a meal or visit—unmasked.

Yesterday, we celebrated my brother-in-love’s birthday at a local restaurant (Harpoon Henry’s). We sat at a table overlooking the water. We enjoyed a wonderful meal. For an hour or so, life felt more like we had known it pre-pandemic.

Casey and Lucy

Tables were still spaced, and servers were still masked.

Of course, the very best part of the evening was hugging again. It felt far too long since we had done so.

This past year has been the most difficult of my life. Too many deaths (most non-COVID-related). Too many lost friends—dear friends—long-term friends. Too many lost family members.

My brother, Ron Lund

Larry's cousin's wife, Claudia Tedford

And without any way to reach closure.

The usual means (funerals, memorial services, etc.) were not possible. Some may happen at a later date, but meanwhile, the losses accumulate. The pain remains.

For the first time in my life, I began to wake in the night with panic attacks. Often. Larry didn’t sleep well, either. He wanted to be sure to wake so he could touch me and reassure me everything was okay. I was okay.

The promise of some return to a form of normality feels like a breath of fresh air. The renewed hope feels like a new beginning. And the panic attacks have subsided.

Of course, we haven’t reached the point where we go out in public without masks. Many people remain unvaccinated. Some refuse. Some are waiting for their opportunity. But more and more are receiving their shots. And they pose less of a threat to everyone else.

So, I look forward to growing hope. I look forward to spending more time with friends and family. I look forward finding closure for some of the losses of friends and family members.

And I look forward to many more hugs.

How are you feeling? Do you sense growing hope? Do you feel more freedom? Have you also lost friends and family members? Do you need closure? And have you missed hugs?