My wife and I received a letter dated on this date in 1996. It was written by one of our adult children (but seemed to us to come from all four), addressed to Mom and Dad. Closing the first paragraph was the line: I thought how blessed I’ve been to receive your hugs and arms around me. (The note was prompted by deep feelings brought on by parts of the Easter morning sermon in which the pastor told of a mother who, finding her baby dead in his crib would no longer be able to daily hug and hold her child. This was capped with affirmation about the outstretched arms of Christ, with wounded hands, reaching out to enfold those who will respond to his invitation.)
In the middle paragraph: Hugs often come when we see each other after some absence, joy or sorrow. They even come when I see Mom at the 4-plex. It doesn’t seem right to leave without a hug to know all is well. I remember as a child even grabbing Dad’s legs and holding on as long as I could before falling away in laughter. I can’t remember when we were ever finished with some discipline when we weren’t comforted with a hug of love. . . . That gesture is healing, part of discipline. It suggests closure to an event, even that which may be otherwise unpleasant.
The final paragraph begins: I don’t know when our last hugs will be. I just know that I want to tell you how much they mean to me. . . . Five years later Mom was gone – to her heavenly home. Only Dad was left to give the hugs, and get them back in joyful kind. In counseling troubled couples, I discover the first evidence that anything was going wrong was the decline in occurrences, or even to total omission, of gestures of touch, such as hugging or holding hands. In counseling children and their parents, the emotional walls may prevent genuine physical contact. A kiss is perfunctory, and an embrace may not occur. We prefer some physical distance between ourselves and those we are not warm to receive. We may feel too vulnerable. News media have reported studies related to hugging, gaining connection with others, making us feel safe, and contributing to healthy life. It was found that children not hugged were more likely to have poor behavior and stunted growth. Hugging also reduced loneliness, especially in aged persons.
There are loving persons who are not touchers. I protect them, when I detect their sensitivity. They were not taught to touch. They came to believe that it is wrong, or that it is not what they do, or their social group has adopted a less physical context of communicating personal affection. This reserve needs to be understood, though I feel a bit sorry for loss. These have closed off wonderful experiences. A man in Calgary, Alberta, noting that I took the hand of my wife when we said grace at a meal took me aside and asked how I did that. I told him it was easy. Just do it. He said he would give anything to be able to show and feel such affection as he felt from the gesture he had seen, but doubted that, at his age, he could break his reserve to the wife he loved.
A man wrote to a newspaper: I think I would go to church if I didn’t have to hug anybody. I hope he got around that barrier. God hugs us, because: underneath are the everlasting arms. (Deuteronomy. 33:27) If this gesture of affection is unwanted, what physical connection would one substitute? God sets intimate standards. They include touches. I now miss the touch and the touching of my wife, but I recover in the invisible touch of Christ. Is it a psychological creation? He may work in anything that is a context of our lives. The physical touch may be faked: the psychological touch must not be false. Many professional athletes try to show this human relationship by firmly bumping against one another. We are designed to be physically relational. *Mark W. Lee, Sr. — 2016, 2020