Hug IOU’s

 Mom was a hugger; this desire to hold others close is part of my DNA. I come by it naturally  because I learned from the best.

Mom was a fire-cracker, a spit-fire, unafraid to speak her mind, to laugh, to hug or kiss you in public. She used to wear the brightest Avon lipstick in the catalog and plant corresponding lip-prints on her loved one’s cheeks. As we got older, we traded those branding kisses for hugs, which her son-in-laws much preferred!

Upon meeting Mom, no matter how long it had been since we’d been apart, a giant hug was the proper greeting. She loved giving and receiving these from her grandchildren especially. If she came over and a grandchild was preoccupied, she’d say “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Mom’s hug was the traditional bear hug where you kind of disappeared in her arms, and she held you just a little longer than other people did. She also liked “sandwich hugs,” where another person might be in between you and her. I’m pretty sure she didn’t know a more conservative “side hug” even existed.

Of course, her hugs were infused with overwhelming love, which made them the perfect gift.

Ironically, Mom didn’t grow up as a hugger. She was the youngest of 8 children and didn’t feel loved by her mother. She grew up feeling unwanted by a mom who harshly punished her if she didn’t do exactly what she wanted. Amazingly, her mom became an almost model grandmother to my siblings and I later in life. Mom, unselfishly, allowed her to give us the love she missed out on as a child.

This Mother’s Day weekend, and always, really, I terribly miss my Mom. I miss her non-politically correct, over-the-top bear, hold-you-a-long-time hugs. I do find a strange comfort, however, in knowing that she isn’t having to live with the pandemic-driven rules imposed upon society today.  She wouldn’t have been a very good “social distancer.”

I think if she were here she’d encourage us to hang on, just a little longer, like she did with her hugs, because there is light at the end of the tunnel. In spite of all of the hurt, fear, uncertainty and anxiety around us, she’d offer hope. She absolutely lived out Romans 8:38-39 that says, “For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Because of Mom’s unshakable faith, I believe she’s in heaven. Jesus shared parables to help us snag a glimpse of what heaven is like, but it’s hard for me to really fathom as I stand here in my kitchen in Texas. What will it be like to be present with the One who created the stars that twinkle in the night sky and the oceans teaming with life under the waves? What will it be like to be with the One who created millions of human beings, each with unique DNA, and at the same time hears every single prayer offered up? What will it be like to be with the One who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life? 

As I remember Mom’s earthly hugs, I wonder how over-the-top her heavenly hugs are. I know she’s giving them out, and it makes me happy to think of her receiving them with peace, light-heartedness and complete happiness without time-limits or boundaries.

I’m working to hold on to what is important, and shed what is baggage. I want heaven to be my final destination. For now, I’ll wear a mask out in public and keep my distance, but I’m making “Hug IOU’s” to hand with the full intent to cash them in in due time. We won’t have to be 6’ apart forever. I have hope. My mama taught me well.