Stories

My Name is Jim, And I'm a Hugger!

From my earliest memories, I have flourished under the influence of “hugs.” Simple embraces imparted over the years became the cornerstone of a healthy self-esteem.

As a child, I welcomed a hug in the morning when I came to the table for breakfast. I sought a hug before I bounded outside to play in my backyard. A hug was always an accompaniment to my mom’s reading a story before an afternoon nap. My dad lifted me in his arms as he walked up to our home coming from work – we shared a tight neck hug. Fond memories of the greetings of saints gave way to a life-long connection to Christ’s church. Church became a welcome place during childhood. Loving hugs foreshadowed my coming into the loving embrace of a Heavenly Father.

Kathy and I were friends in high school long before our friendship turned to courtship. Even before we held hands, we shared hugs – holiday greetings, a show of appreciation for thoughtfulness, a demonstration of encouragement.

Today, hugs remain at the core of our comings and goings. We leave our home each weekday morning and before departing to go our separate ways, we share a tender embrace. We recognize that time is fleeting and every moment is to be treasured. And then there is the hug when we return to each other that is accompanied with a thankful heart.

I have always welcomed the hugs of my children. It is the fuel that energizes me to scale mountains and fend off those who set their intentions to harm hearth and home.

Captured forever in my mind are the memories of little arms wrapped around my neck accompanied with a tender “I love you, Daddy.”

As is our tradition, we pray before every meal – often standing together in a circle. We take turns offering our thanks. Many times I lead the family.

This Christmas was a little more special than other Christmases. My son Kyle and my daughter-in-law Susan spent the holidays with us. It has been five years since we were together, all of us, on Christmas day.

Kathy had been working since early in the morning. Each daughter pitched in at the appointed time, preparing her specialty – green bean casserole, pecan pie, fresh fruit salad.

When the final detail was checked from the list that had been prepared weeks earlier, we gathered around. Each one in the circle – Kyle, Susan, Amie, Jenny, Mary, Kathy and me – reached to clasp the hand of the one standing next to the other; we bowed our heads and I voiced our prayer.

“Lord, bless us each one. Thank you for returning us into each other’s presence.

“Let us be mindful of you in all that we do, and may we glorify you in all things.

“We are thankful for all you provide, and on this day we are truly thankful for your gift of Jesus as we celebrate His birth.

“Bless the food, and bless the hands that prepared it.

“In Jesus’s name we pray. Amen.”

For a moment, we stand frozen, savoring the togetherness.

“Group hug!” Kyle proclaims, breaking the silence. We echo his enthusiasm with spontaneous laughter. Our hands reach around each other’s shoulders as we grasp tightly, drawing the circle closer, compacting us in a tender embrace. We are reunited – physically, emotionally and spiritually.

Hugs are good medicine in ailing times. They are balm during sorrow. They are confetti and streamers floating through the air at celebrations. They unite hearts for a lifetime. They renew fellowship and ease tensions after years of hurt and misunderstanding.

Hugs are good for families. They are good for individuals.

It’s said that the first step in recognizing an obsession is admitting your condition. And although you may never change, coming forward and sharing with your family and friends is essential to building better relationships.

My name is Jim, and I’m a hugger.

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