I spent the last four days with my family in New Braunfels at the BEST waterpark in all the land: Schlitterbahn. If you have yet to experience this wonderful place, you must go. Do it right, like the Cobbs: stay at least one night in the hotel conveniently located IN the park, get a room with a kitchen so you do not have to eat park food all the time, bring people you love to have a good time with. My parents were named Schlitterqueen and Schlitterking by my brother's girlfriend - very appropriate.
Anyways, I had all this time with my family, my good friend Hillary, and then a night in Dallas to see my childhood friend get married. It was a great opportunity to reconnect with my good friends from high school and catch up - once you leave the nest, it's just not the same. I gave and received many hugs throughout my mini-vaca. Some people knew about the loss of John and I felt it in their hugs. Others have no idea that my life has changed so dramatically in the last year and hugged me out of simple excitement to see me again. As I drove home today, I had plenty of time to think back on the relationships I rekindled and the love I have in my life.
One thing I know for certain, hugs (to me) are more intimate and personal than a kiss. Now now, a kiss is the outward sign of affection, physical desire to depict your love or attraction, one step closer to the ultimate closeness with another. I get it - I have kissed a few frogs in my life to understand the excitement and need to portray the attraction in some way other than words. I get it. But here's something I understand even more: a hug is the connection of two hearts. Whether these two hearts are of lovers, parent and child, long-lost friends, or two people needing to be held, there is a connection of hearts. A hug is the closest our hearts can physically get to each other - we embrace the other at their chest and feel the beat beat beat of their blood and body. Hugging is the physical outreach to show, and somehow satisfy, great emotional, relational, and personal needs.
I hug to greet. I hug to say farewell for a time. I hug to make someone know that I am there - I wrap my arms around the one in need and let them know in the most physical way I can, that I am here and you may cling to me if you want. It has been said that I am an expert hugger. I don't want to brag but...I do give good hugs. I love that moment of enclosing my dear ones in my arms, bringing them to my (ample...) bosom, and physically embodying my need to help them as much as I can. My height allows me to really really embrace the shorter ones in my life. I get to be the mother hen who arms are readily available for a good hug. I love this role.
However, I realized today, that most of my hugging is for other people. I love that moment of wrapping someone in my love so much but I rarely am hugged for my own cause. I thought of this on my drive back to Marfa. When was the last time I was HUGGED, the last time someone embraced me because they saw the need, felt the need, and wanted to cure the need? I was hit with a great desire and almost physical need for someone to come to me, wrap me in their arms, and let me feel that great protection, that great wall of peace. There is a difference between that intial greeting hug or a final farewell hug and the outward expression of feeling and empathizing with another person. I crave to have one of these hugs. Who will be the lucky bearer?
Here are a few of my most favorite, most needed, and most memorable moments of being wrapped in love:
- Clay Jackson - my "big brother figure", a friend from life, the 3rd member of my imaginary trifecta (John, Abby, Clay). When I finally arrived at the hospital the night before John passed away, it was Clay who I needed to be with. His strenth, both of stature and of character, made me feel a little bit better at my most trying moment in life. I did not get to see him for a while after arriving but, when I finally did, it seemed as if everyone cleared the floor to let me get to him. I frantically threw my arms around his neck and he just held me. That's all I needed at that moment. He is a dear friend of John's, a special friend of mine, and was the one I wanted most for comfort. I remember stating that I was shaking and he agreed - that was when I realized that not only was he hugging me, he was literally holding me up, supporting me from my own fear and dred of what was to come. This went beyond reaching out. He held me up and away from the physical deterioration of my heartbreak.
- Rachel Hicks - my best friend and roommate. Rachel spent a semester in France from January through May. This means she was gone when John passed away. The three of us made a great team - what a lucky girl I have been to have my two best friends in the world also be good friends and love to be together. I had it made. Anyways, I got the lovely priviledge of picking up our European traveler at the DFW airport, kept her with me for a night, and then (reluctantly) let her head back to her family in New Mexico. Her flight was on time but between baggage claim and customs, it took FOREVER to finally embrace her. I waited nearly two hours all by my lonesome self in the international arrivals area for my best friend to return to me. Many emotions went through my head during that wait making the moment of arrival that much more emotional. I saw her walking down the cleared area for the arrivers, waited for her to spot me, and then hurredly embraced my love. That moment...well, I couldn't, nor did I want to, let go. It was six months of waiting, six months of needing my best friend, six months of real life having hit us in the face clinging to each other. I will never forget that moment of pure need for each other. Talk about connecting hearts - we were finally back together again.
- John Means - best friend, soul mate, deeply missed and loved by many. We had more memorable hugs, or body slams as we liked to call them, than I can really recount. It is less of an actual moment than it is an understanding and love for our moments of reuniting. Even if just a few days stood between us, John and I hugged like our lives depended on it. We clung to each other, seeing no need to be less obnoxious, draw less attention, or quiet ourselves down. I do remember last summer, though. We discussed our body slams in great depth - how we should brace ourselves for the enormity of the hugs that would be forced upon the other. He came to Marfa in late June and we also saw each other for Campmeeting - both times were epically planned "body slams." His hugs were perfect - his height, strength, flamboyancy, and scent that I miss so much.
- my mom - gave me life, raised me well, and puts up with me on a regular basis. Anytime I leave Dallas or say farewell to my mom, I feel a need to hold on tightly for a moment. There is just nothing like the touch of your mom, no matter how different you might be or no matter how frustrated yall might make each other. I love my mother deeply - saying goodbye to her is never easy. It is less dramatic than it was when I was a little 8-year old being left at summer camp but it is no less emotional for me. It might even be more so now. I have grown to adore my mom as a friend and a mother, to love her sacrifices and time and love for her family.
Marfa means...feeling at home.
