The Comfort of My Husband's Arms
“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.”
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 we wash our hands for 20 seconds, which turns out to be the exact time that it takes to sing Happy Birthday twice. By some strange 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 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, we did not hug. As a child, I gravitated to friends who were part of families 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 my husband’s 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 and that my discomfort was depriving others of much needed comfort. It became easier to hold a grieving friend, welcome company with open arms and give a hug of support.
On this sunny Sunday morning, I have just 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 not today. Today, we are all cooking hearty breakfasts and preparing weekly menu plans based on the frozen and canned foods available to us. This afternoon, we will head out for a long walk with the dog and I expect they will also head out, letting the wind blow worries away, while safely social distancing. Like all of us, my girls face minor challenges during this time of self-isolation, and I have only been able to support and console them over the phone or computer. We have not seen our children for over two weeks and my body aches with the need to cradle them in my arms. Later this morning, I will call my mother on the island for our daily chat. My mother has been alone for too long, she is strong but she admits she is getting lonely, and there is no one to hold her. And today, like every day, I will send messages to family and friends near and far, checking in and providing an update.
That is all we can do these days. We reach out to people with phone calls, FaceTime chats and messages of love and support. We deliver care packages and mail cards. We post words of encouragement and share resources. And we send virtual hugs, hopefully four times a day!
Tonight I will end my day as it began, nestled in my husband’s arms. He will hold me, not saying a word, and his arms will provide all the comfort I need.