As an infant she screamed and wiggled her way out of my arms, preferring to be alone in her crib or swinging madly in the (thankfully) battery operated swing. As a toddler, the after-bath-time-towel was as close as I could get. She always found ways to distance herself from any close contact; sliding herself into the corners of the booth at a restaurant, choosing the backseat even when the car is empty of others, opting to sit on the floor versus the couch with me. It just became the normal.
I noticed she started to hug her dad a few years back. I often wondered why she would do that. In my hurt heart I thought why would she give him what I yearned for? Why would she hug him, who she rarely saw and who never, ever, ever did the amazing things that I did for her. Why?? I still do not know, but I rationalize it that she had no other way to connect with him and saw other people hugging loved ones and just felt that was her only way to be in his world. I also rationalized that she saw no reason to go through that false display with me when she knew in her heart that it was unnecessary to speak those unspoken words, or gestures.
Time goes on.
I reach to hug her often and she recoils and says “Mommmmmmmm, you know I don’t hug”. Yet I have seen her hug other people. People who have never shed a tear for her. People who have not sat at the big round table advocating with all their heart. People who have not paved the way for her to begin to know success. People who have not been there day after day after day. I am baffled at this.
And then out of completely nowhere. In a random moment. She said, “Mom, can I have hug?” Like slow motion in my mind I heard those words. The words I have longed for. Words that I accepted as a set of syllables that I would just never hear.
It does not matter why. If it never happens again, that is okay too. It was worth it.