I had another interview today. Interest in my story has waned, but every once in a while someone pops up interested in learning more. Each time I do an interview I learn more about myself. I learn what parts of this journey has affected me most and why it has meant so much to me. Sometimes my answers surprise even myself. Today for instance, I was asked if I saw an end to asking strangers (or as I like to refer to them, new friends) for hugs. I took a moment, then laughed as I answered, “No, I am pretty sure I am always going to be known as that crazy old hug lady.”
I want to be that grandmotherly figure demanding hugs of everyone I encounter. And, because I will be old people will forgive my demanding nature. They will give in to it and while some (especially the youngsters) will protest, they will all secretly love my arm wings (you know those flaps you get when you get older) wrapping around them in a great big squeeze. This is what I remember about my great grandmother. Her suffocating hugs. Gosh they were painful. She had wings that you swear she could have flown. But, I couldn’t wait to visit her. I couldn’t wait to feel those arms squeeze the life out of me. She had this old musty smell about her that was not altogether pleasant, but I sometimes thought I could bathe in it. She was the definition of love. And, that is what I aspire to be.
Please accept this blog as my virtual hug to you.