I’m back to that person that loves hugs. I really love hugs. Have you ever had a hug that lingers? It’s a moment of “let me hold onto you because I’m lost outside of your arms.” Or when your world is falling apart and you get one of those hugs that seem to hold you together? Those are golden. I don’t hug everyone. If I can’t hug you like I mean it, I have no business hugging you. If I hug someone, I want my warmth to fill every part of them. If I’m the one that needs a refill, I find the calm of another heart beating against mine to be an amazing feeling. Kid3 always requests a bear hug. He likes it when I hold him so tightly he can hear his spine complain, and I lift him off the ground and nuzzle into his neck. He likes those more than I do. I like kneeling and wrapping my arms around him, and breathing in his hair. Kid2 likes a snuggle in bed where he fits his shoulder in my armpit and his head rests on my chest. They all know when I give them the look that used to put fear in them, it now means I have gone far too long without a hug and I’m in need of one. Kid1 walks over to me and puts his head on my shoulder and I wrap my arms around him, but he very rarely hugs back, and that’s okay too. I miss man hugs. Those are special on their own. I will never again take for granted the safety and protection a man hug can give.