Four Hugs A Day
“He sleeps up next to me like he always does. Says it soothes his soul. But it’s my restlessness that gets calmed with his big old body next to mine.”
Thursday was National Hug Day, a day to hug family, friends, or strangers – but for most of us, it was not a hugging day. Some of us are blessed to have at least one person in our lives to hug, but too many have no one to hug right now. Hugging helps build a good immune system, decreases the risk of heart disease, lowers blood pressure, and triggers the release of healthy hormones. I wonder what the health detriments are of not receiving hugs, especially during this time when we all desperately yearn for hugs?
I met a friend on my morning walk who is celebrating her 60th birthday. We talked, I gave her a card, but I could not wrap my arms around her to welcome her to this rather amazing decade. My daughters both sent virtual hugs via Facebook. I had a lovely visit with my mother, but a socially distanced visit without hugs. I felt sorry for myself, but I was also filled with gratitude because every morning I wake up in the comfort of my husband’s arms.
Ten months ago, almost to this day, as COVID restrictions were just being announced, I shared a blog post about the comfort of my husband’s arms. I read it again on National Hug Day, and it felt as relevant as it did when this uncertain journey began. It has been my most read post since I started my blog. I don’t plan to make a habit of re-posting past blogs but it feels fitting to share this post again, with some slight edits, as many of us yearn to wrap our arms around family, friends, and strangers.
The alarm clock goes off at 6 am every morning. My husband turns it off, then rolls over and curves his body around mine. Over the next 5 minutes, he slowly wakes up. Wrapped in the comfort of his arms, I ease back into sleep, hoping to escape the reality of today’s world for another hour.
We hug longer and more often these days. My husband holds me tight in his arms and sings Happy Birthday in a soft voice. The World Health Organization has recommended that we wash our hands for 20 seconds, which turns out to be the exact time that it takes to sing Happy Birthday twice. By coincidence, research tells us that when a hug lasts 20 seconds, there is a therapeutic effect on the body and mind, producing oxytocin, also known as the love hormone. This substance benefits our mental and physical health, helping us relax, feel safe and calm our fears and anxiety. Happy Birthday has taken on a whole meaning in our lives!
Sometimes my husband and I will sing Four Hugs a Day when we embrace, not joyously as we did with our children, but with a breath-taking tenderness that hurts my heart. Some of you will know the song Four Hugs a Day by children’s performer, Charlotte Diamond.
Four Hugs a Day, that's the minimum
Four Hugs a Day, not the maximum
Four Hugs a Day, that's the minimum
Four Hugs a Day, not the maximum
Don't forget your Mama and Papa
Your Grandma and Grandpa
And all your friends too
Brothers and Sisters, Aunts and Uncles
And don't forget your teachers too!
Four Hugs a Day, that's the minimum
Four Hugs a Day, not the maximum
Four Hugs a Day, that's the minimum
Four Hugs a Day, not the maximum
Don't forget you've gotta give Four Hugs a Day.
I did not grow up in a demonstrative home, our family did not hug. As a child, I gravitated to friends who lived in households where affection abounded. And, during my teenage years, I made out with too many boys, yearning to be held. Then I met my husband, affection - both verbal and physical - are both a natural part of his chemistry. I can still remember the discomfort I felt when I met his family for the first time, grown men hugging and saying they loved each other.
It is difficult to slip into a different way of being, and I continued to feel awkward with physical affection. My body would stiffen when my husband’s family hugged me. I could not bring myself to hug friends. I would stand there, feeling uncomfortable, as my husband pulled someone into one of his bear hugs. Friends would sense my unease and we would greet with the touch of an arm or an air kiss.
Then our girls were born, one after the other, in quick succession and I fell so deeply in love that I could not keep my hands off them. I held them in my arms for hours at a time. I tickled their cheeks with eyelash butterfly kisses. I nuzzled their necks, breathing in that wonderful baby smell. Something began to soften in me. And it slowly dawned on me how much we all need to be held. It became easier to hold a grieving friend, welcome company with open arms, and give a hug of support.
On the sunny Sunday morning when I originally wrote this last March, I checked in with my girls and their partners online. On a typical Sunday, they might be heading to our home for a walk and pub visit, or a family dinner. But on that Sunday in March, we were all cooking hearty breakfasts and preparing weekly menu plans based on the frozen and canned foods available to us. That afternoon, my husband and I headed out for a long walk with the dog and our children did the same, letting the wind blow worries away, while safely social distancing. On that Sunday we had not seen our children for over two weeks and my body ached with the need to cradle them in my arms. We did not know that it would be several more weeks before we would see them again. Later that morning, I called my mother on the island for our daily chat. We are thankful that in the summer we were able to move her closer, and I can now visit her in person. And that Sunday evening, I sent messages to family and friends near and far, checking in and providing an update.
We have been under restriction again since early December. My mother is not allowed to visit our home and I am the only one able to visit her. I have not seen my daughters in almost a month. We once again reach out to people with phone calls, Zoom chats, and messages of love and support. We deliver care packages and mail cards. We post words of encouragement on social media. We send virtual hugs - hopefully four times a day! And tonight I will end my day as it began, in the comfort of my husband’s arms.