Tag Archives: hugging

living her best life…#38

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When I think my life’s hit a bump in the road, I know there’s always someone else whose life has hit a pot hole. Some, even sink holes.

Like the young housewife and her infant children who lost husband and father, when he smashed head-on into the back of a city bus while driving to work. Natashia Henderson is a teacher on maternity leave. Her third child is due in June or July. Donations for her husband’s funeral as well as support for the family can be made at http://www.youcaring.com/memorial-fundraiser/in-memory-of-glenn-henderson/331230. 

How my sister-in-law Pat has lived with multiple myeloma and amyloidosis for almost a year is hard for me to fathom. Even my daughter who just went through her own personal hell, can’t imagine how her aunt weathers the constant storm brewing inside her body. How does she do it? Not very easily, I’m sure.

Physically, Pat says she has no complaints. A little fatigue now and then, especially after chemotherapy. Personally…I think Pat complains very little, if ever. 

Pat still has difficulty chewing; her back molars no longer work. In fact, her dentist recommends removing them. The way Pat tells it you’d think it was no big deal. But, of course, it is. It’s just that she’s been living without the ability to chew for a while, ever since her diseases took hold. 

No chewing means resorting to baby food. Well, maybe not Gerber’s, but pretty close. Few adults could live on pablum and love it. I know of none.

Losing a few pounds is one thing. Losing 20-30 pounds when you’re not really trying is scary. At least to those of us who love Pat.

I enjoy making Pat laugh…even when I’m not trying. What I’ve never heard her do…is cry. 

Why shouldn’t she cry, considering what she’s living with? I would. Then again…I cry every time I see An Affair to Remember…starring Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr.

Pat and Brad are making a quick stopover in Seattle this weekend, en route to The Mayo Clinic in Minnesota. I can’t wait to hug her skinny body and make her laugh until her belly aches. I want to catch up on all the little things left unsaid in emails and phone calls. In short, I’d like to mother Pat, allowing her to relax into the loving care and concern of one who’s lived longer. 

I’m not wiser, I’m just more inclined to…

…hug…and never stop hugging.

………hugmamma.

 

 

 

nurturing thursdays: “aloha”…for all

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Awaiting our departure from Hawaii where we’d been vacationing the last couple of weeks, I browsed throughout an airport shop  filled with souvenir trinkets and the like. Among the several things I scooped up was The Book of Aloha – A Collection of Hawaiian Proverbs & Inspirational Wisdom. I thought my daughter would enjoy reading what others interpreted aloha to mean. Among them was the following:

Hawaiians were “hospitable, kindly, giving a welcome to strangers, affectionate, generous givers, who always invited strangers to sleep at the house and gave them food and fish without pay, and clothing for those who had little; a people ashamed to trade”

Visiting Hawaii, the home of my ancestors, went a long way in replenishing my aloha. Whether with family members or complete strangers, I found it easy to fall back into the island routine of sharing bear hugs and broad smiles. Telling one another “I love you” was as comfortable as saying “Hello. How are you?”

The tropical climate might have something to do with Hawaiian hospitality. After all, it’s easier to be pleasant when the sun is shining and the breezy trade winds help maintain 80 degree temperatures. By comparison a recent article in the local paper where we reside here in Washington, spoke of the “Seattle-freeze.” Could it be that the rainy, gray weather makes Seattle-ites less hospitable toward others?

While it’s true that year-round, warm weather might influence the mood of the natives, it’s more likely that Hawaiian aloha is culturally derived.

Hawaii’s first monarch, King Kamehameha, allowed his people to harvest what was necessary for their daily needs from the land and the sea. Thus the natives were without material want, for all was provided them. And without an end in sight, they could always benefit from the fruits of their own labor. Why then would they not readily share their bounty?

While there is no monarchy providing for Hawaii’s population today, islanders continue the tradition of sharing whatever they have. It is the legacy handed down from one generation to the next. Newcomers to the islands are also inclined to adopt Hawaiian hospitality, practicing it as freely as if born to it. 

Many Hawaiians have migrated to the mainland United States, seeking higher education and/or better paying jobs. With them they bring the spirit of aloha. It’s very likely then that there are pockets of Hawaiian hospitality scattered throughout the country. And it’s just as likely that these fellow islanders will agree that when we return to the land of our birth, we are always infused with an abundance of our ancestral aloha.

Makana, age 7, says it best in The Book of Aloha,

Aloha is when there is a room with a million strangers and then they say “aloha,” and then they are not strangers anymore.

We can all partake of aloha, regardless of where we were born and where our life’s journey has taken us. Perhaps if we all practiced a little aloha towards one another, world peace might be attained. After all the land, the sea and all their bounty were loaned us to fulfill our daily needs. Rather than hoard them for ourselves why not share them freely with others, for the happiness and greater good of all?

…a valuable lesson…from a speck of land in a big ocean…hawai’i…

………hugmamma.

 Visit http://beccagivens.wordpress.com/2014/08/21/nurturing-thurs-my-favorite/ for more inspirational writings by several regular contributors to Nurturing Thursdays.

dr. oz…channeling oprah?

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Like his mentor, TV talk show host Oprah Winfrey, Dr. Oz is loved by millions of women. Granted, there are men in the audience…if only a few handfuls.

I too was bitten by the Oz bug, never having caught the Oprah bug. Probably because he’s a NYC cardiologist and he’s undeniably cute. That he’s “hot” in a passive-aggressive way helps.

When Dr. Oz began his show, I’d hang on his every word. I’d write down his health tips and bombard my husband with them as soon as he came through the front door. Not the jealous type, my husband merely chuckled at my exuberance over the man whose company I kept every day at 3 p.m.

As my initial adulation began wearing off, or maybe because I wasn’t one of the lucky ladies sitting in front of him, Dr. Oz reverted back to being mortal again. At least to me… sitting alone in front of the TV without other giddy women egging me on. 

Eventually I stopped watching Dr. Oz. In part, his shows were becoming repetitious. His favorite topic was weight loss, and probably still is. I guess I’d done enough research on my own to know what I had to do to keep my weight in check. Not that it made me an expert. It’s just that I’d…been there, done that.

Another reason I parted company with the Dr. Oz show was his obvious appeal to the women in the audience. They seemed to swoon when asked to join him on stage as volunteers for his experiments. I love hugging, don’t get me wrong. After all…I am hugmamma. It’s just that I got a little uncomfortable with the bountiful hugs being exchanged between the doctor and his female fans. They came to expect his hugs and he seemed only too glad to oblige. Granted, I’m sure he’s a genuinely caring person with a natural penchant for physical closeness. It might even be a cultural thing, like it is for me as a native of Hawaii where the Aloha Spirit abounds.

For me, it just got to be a little too much. 

Finally, there was one piece of advice he would voice time and again. I’d chuckle about it at first, especially while telling my husband that Dr. Oz said we should have sex several times a week. According to him, it was important to the male’s health. No pressure there.

As time passed, I simply stopped tuning into Dr. Oz. Pretty much like I stopped tuning into the Catholic Church every Sunday, because the priest seemed so far removed from the realities of today’s world.

You can imagine my surprise when I heard that Dr. Oz was called before Congress to answer to charges that he’s abusing his power over consumers. They feel he is energetically supporting products that have no proof in fact of working as he claims on his program. One example cited was the doctor’s claim that the geen coffee bean would increase weight loss. Evidently, there’s not substantive research to back up those claims. Can you imagine the FDA approving a drug because Dr. Oz says it works brilliantly, without scientific data to back him up?

Dr. Oz tried to do on his show what Oprah successfully did on hers…brought the audience along on her beautifully woven message of words. She inspired change, giving hope to millions who wanted to live their best life.

There’s a fine line between the psychological and the physical. And when health information is being doled out like a mixed bag of magic pills, then I agree with those who say…buyer beware!  Fortunately, Dr. Oz is now aware of his power over consumers and wants to help protect them against businesses only too happy to take their money.

As for me, if Dr. Oz could attend to me as a heart patient I’d be totally happy. I’m positive his bedside manner includes hugging. And in a crisis, who doesn’t want to have a compassionate soul holding you? However that doesn’t mean…

…i’ll be watching him on tv…anytime soon…

………hugmamma.

Following is an excerpt from an article in the February 4, 2014 issue of THE NEW YORKER, written by Michael Specter…Is Dr. Oz Doing More Harm Than Good?

Oz has become used to crowds, to adulation, and to fame. That morning, when he arrived in darkness, hundreds of people, mostly women, already stood in line at the entrance to the hospital; many lacked insurance, a doctor, or medical support of any kind. There were screams of delight when he hopped out of the car. People had come for the free exam and for helpful advice, but also to see him. Oz is fifty-two and jauntily fit, with a perfectly tamed helmet of brown hair and lengthy sideburns. His scrubs, powder blue and cinched at the waist, fit so well they looked as if they had been run up for him onSavile Row. In promotional pictures, Oz, with a stethoscope draped like a scarf around his neck, looks eerily like Doug Ross, the character that George Clooney made famous on “E.R.” He worked the line like a gifted politician, hugging people as they flipped open their phones and tried to get a picture with him. Many had brought old copies of magazines to be signed: Time, Good Housekeeping, Prevention—all with Oz on the cover. “I worship you, Dr. Oz,” one woman told him. Another threw her arms around his neck. “I haven’t seen a doctor in eight years,” she said. “I’m scared. You are the only one I trust.”

Oz squeezed her shoulder and stared into her eyes. “I’ll see you inside,” he said. “We are going to get through this, and we will do it together.”

 

 

accepting…a hug…

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I’m usually the one giving out hugs, but I’m on the receiving end this time…and loving it. Small PhotoConnie Wayne of Hope For Today at http://hopefortoday.com recently told me that she’s also a…hugger, hugmamma, and a hug-gramma. So no small wonder that she created the Hug Award. Now why didn’t I think of that? Oh yeah, right. I’m not adept at creating awards…just receiving them.  We’ve all got our talents…according to God‘s wisdom.

The guidelines are many for nominating a blogger into Connie’s Hug Award hall of fame. They can be viewed in their entirety by clicking on the link below. They’re worth a look-see.  http://ahopefortoday.com/hug-award-guidelines/ 

Among the guidelines is one that requires I nominate at least one person who I think fits the description of having hope…”to look forward to with desire and reasonable confidence,” as defined by Webster. I’m certain I know of many more, but the ones that immediately come to mind are these whom I have followed for some time, and whom I’m almost certain have not yet been nominated. Although I could be mistaken because Connie is in the midst of compiling a list of recipients, as I type.

Christine Grote of Random Thoughts From Midlife at http://randomthoughtsfrommidlife.wordpress.com is a published author, having written of her deceased sister in Dancing In Heaven. It’s a compelling story of a woman who lived her life disabled…but did not let it disable her. Her life touched others in ways that continue to resonate. And now Christine’s family is revisited by sorrow once again in that her dad is stricken with Alzheimer’s. That she can endure life with steady resolve is a tribute to Christine’s hope in the dawn of a new day…each and every day. You won’t be disappointed when you visit my friend and fellow blogger. Give her a hug for me.

My friend at Sweet Days Under The Oaks is a Missouri girl down to her shoes, which run the gamut in her gravatar photo…currently, moccasins. PhotoHer blog is a front row seat onto the wide open spaces of rural America. Snapshots abound beautifully depicting country life among the birds, the horses, and others of God’s  critters, including humans doing what they do…like eating homemade rolls hot out of the oven. Makes me want to sit a spell…and hope that we all might partake of my friend’s…little piece of heaven on earth. Go see for yourself at http://sweetdaysundertheoaks.wordpress.com. It’s likely you won’t be in a hurry to leave.

My final nominee for the Hug Award is a man who has relocated to London…and taken his readers with him. Small PhotoTBM of 50 Year Project has challenged himself to visit 192 countries, read 1,001 books and watch the top 100 movies. Quite a goal! But if you peruse his posts, you’ll see that he’s dead serious. I could only hope to accomplish half as much as he. Given the time I’ve left to enjoy on this earth…I think I’ll pass. I’ll live vicariously through TBM. Now there’s someone with everlasting hope…for many, many, many tomorrows. God bless him…which I think He does. I recently gave TBM a hug, which he more than graciously accepted.

…I’m hoping these…and all my friends…accept the hug award…with huge hugs…

…here’s to hugging…cheers!!!…okole maluna (“bottoms up” in hawaiian)

………hugmamma.  🙂

daily post challenge #345: am i good to people i don’t know?

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One of the Golden Rules which, for me, has always remained sacrosanct is “Treat others as you would want them to treat you.” Harking back to my mom, as I am always wont to do it seems, calls forth images of others helping her.

As a young child I witnessed my mom begging others for…more time to pay her car note, even while they continued to perform services and repairs…mercy for errant brothers who had committed petty theft…medical services for which she had no money to pay.

Orphans by Thomas Kennington

Image via Wikipedia

I was sensitive to the gratitude and humility with which my mom accepted…second-hand clothing refused by the orphans at the orphanage where she worked…leftover food from the nuns who employed her…random offerings from friends and neighbors.

At my mother’s knee, I learned that I am no better than anyone else. And so in my daily dealings with…waiters, drycleaning assistants, store clerks, bank tellers, receptionists, grocery cashiers, box office attendants, vet assistants…I offer smiles, compliments, empathy, and gratitude, always gratitude.

If I can lift someone’s spirits, calm their nerves, even make their day with a heartfelt compliment…such as “You’re so beautiful!”…then why hesitate to do so? I am beyond embarrassment, it seems, when it means I can make someone feel better…whether she or he needs the boost or not. And hugs…no one escapes a huge hug.

Enveloping someone within my warm embrace is another of my own mom’s legacies to me. There is no more profound offering of one’s self than to press another to one’s own heart, letting them know that we are kindred spirits beneath the outer trappings of…age, gender, ethnicity, social class, sexual preference, and religious and political affiliation. It is true that…goodness and kindness…beget…goodness and kindness. But I never set out to beget…anything.

Hugging, and all it entails, is as natural to me…as breathing in…and breathing out. And I owe my lessons in the art of…to all those who gave of themselves to my mom…and what she gave…in return.

…hugging you………hugmamma.  🙂 

“affection, good for you,” experts

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No need to convince me. I’m a hugger, and a “masher.” But maybe these experts will persuade those of you who need convincing.

The moment we indulge our affections, the earth is metamorphosed…Emerson

Talk not of wasted affection. Affection never was wasted…Longfellow

“You’re the first man who has hugged me since my husband died seven years ago!”…elderly woman to author Leo Buscaglia

“It’s like going home again.”…a man who exchanged hugs with author Leo Buscaglia

…arrive at a state in which all contact seems repellent, where to touch or to be touched means to hurt or be hurt. This, in a sense, has become one of the greatest ailments of our time, a major social disease of modern society that we would be well to cure before it is too late. It the danger remains unheeded then–like poisonous chemicals in our food–it may increase from generation to generation until the damage has gone beyond repair…Desmond Morris in “Intimate Behavior”

A simple caress has the potential of changing a whole life. The warm embrace, withheld at the vital moment when it is most desperately needed, can easily be the act, or rather the non-act, that finally destroys a relationship, or even a nation!…Leo Buscaglia in “Loving Each Other”

Hugging can lift depression–enabling the body’s immune system to become tuned up. Hugging breathes fresh life into a tired body and makes you feel younger and more vibrant. In the home, daily hugging will strengthen relationships and significantly reduce friction…Dr. Harold Voth, psychiatrist at the Menninger Foundation in Kansas

…when a person is touched, the amount of hemoglobin in the blood increases significantly. Hemoglobin is a part of the blood that carries vital supplies of oxygen to all organs of the body–including the heart and brain. An increase in hemoglobin tones up the whole body, helps prevent disease and speeds recovery from illness…Helen Colton in “The Gift of Touch”

We can all benefit by learning to express and meet our physical needs in a loving, caressing way. Thus, I give many of my patients a homework assignment: During the upcoming weeks, they are to get and give four hugs a day. I even write out a formal prescription that says simply, “Four hugs a day–without fail.” Don’t ever underestimate how powerful this therapy can be, and the role it can play in the healing process. And it’s a safe prescription, too. To my knowledge, no one has ever died of an overdose of hugging. However, as one of my patients told me, “It is addicting. Once you start hugging, it’s a hard habit to break!”…Dr. David Bressler, while director of the Pain Control Unit at UCLA

I’m living proof that hugging is the greatest form of therapy for whatever ails me, and very much habit forming. I couldn’t give up hugging if I tried. Hugging and outward affection are who I am.

sending you early hugs for a happy valentine’s day!…hugmamma. 

hugging is “aloha”

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You know how I can tell that President Obama is Hawaiian? He hugs, a lot.

And by osmosis, Michelle’s Hawaiian too. She hugs as much as her husband, but hangs onto the recipient a bit longer.

I’ve noticed this before, but while watching one newscast of the Tucson memorial for victims of the recent shooting, I carefully observed Obama and his wife as they made their way through the throngs of well-wishers. Their hugs were infused with the “aloha” of the islands.

Growing up Hawaiian, hugging a person as a welcoming gesture, or a parting one, was like drawing breath. Moving forward into someone’s space is akin to bringing him or her into mine. The sensation of bodies touching in “aloha” is pleasant, heart-warming. My guard is down, my mind is open. I want to share the best of me, my “better angels,” as coined by Lincoln in his first inaugural address in 1861. I wish I could rattle off a Hawaiian phrase that would capture the essence of what I mean. Could it be “hoomalemale?” I’m not sure. My mom would have uttered a paragraph of native speak by now. I’ll have to google my ancestral tongue. Come to think of it, I’ve a Hawaiian dictionary somewhere in my house. I’ll post a blog in Hawaiian when I find the book. (Just don’t hold your breath.)

Perhaps because my mom was a native Hawaiian, full-blooded, she came by hugging naturally. And because of her, so did I. Unless I feel a strong vibe from someone, I automatically pull them into a huge hug. Friend or stranger, peon or dignitary, working stiff or corporate CEO, my hugs are the same. I connect on the most basic of human levels, one person reaching out to touch another’s soul in compassion. If I was asked what I liked best about myself, my propensity to hug, everyone, would be my answer.

Until my father-in-law suffered a massive heart attack more than two decades ago, my husband and his family weren’t publicly affectionate. They’ve always been the model of Christian generosity, sharing their home with everyone, making all feel like “ohana,” family. But huggers, not so much. All that seemed to change after my father-in-law was stricken. Not only were hugs given more freely, but saying “I love you” to one another before hanging up the phone has become commonplace. That’s always their reply to me, when I tell them “I love you.”

I’ve even taken to telling friends “I love you.” I think it’s taken them aback. Not all reply in kind. No matter, if I feel like saying it, I say it. I understand that there are differences in culture, and in upbringing. My Brit friend, Sylvia, however, always tells me “I love you” back. I think that’s because she thinks of me like a daughter. Something she once told me. So I make sure I tell her that I love her, like a daughter. One can never have too many mothers, or daughters.

My husband’s definitely grown in displays of affection over the 40 years we’ve been married. He’s had no choice. I’m a relentless hugger, and “masher.” That’s another thing my mom taught me, how to “mash.” She’d smother me with hugs and kisses before I was even awake to appreciate them. At the time, I found her “mashing” a nuisance. I’m sure that’s what my husband and daughter felt at the beginning. Now, they’re resigned to it. But as I’ve aged, I’ve cooled it some. I think good “mashing” requires energy, the kind I still had through the early part of my 50s. Now, I just hug a lot. And I’m so blessed that my daughter’s a big hugger too! That’s my legacy to her, and to future generations of our family.

Maybe we should become a nation of huggers. It’s impossible to hate someone you hug. Hugging slips the switch from distrust, to possibility. Hugging opens you up to listening. Hugging is positive, not negative, energy. Hugging welcomes you like “ohana.” And in God’s eyes, aren’t we all family? We should be, let’s all hug…

sending huge hugs to all of you, my global “ohana”…hugmamma.