My sons loved hockey camp with their coaches today. They seemed to have an unlimited supply of energy that is not artificially produced by large quantities of caffeine. Markus was doused by his coaches with a water bottle while being called "Legend" playing hand ball. Max on the other hand, is the perfect candidate for “Dodge Ball,” or any other made up game that he gets to participate in, which is probably why he described it as "the best day of camp ever!!!" As I was watching, it reminded me of a game they like to play on their penny boards or what my boys refer to as, “Mahalo.”
Whenever I hear them talking about an impending visit from the neighborhood night games crew, the boys’ eyes begin to light up and in unison they excitedly exclaim, “Mahalo!”
I love to hear their voices as they “chant” before the game begins, whip their hockey sticks around, toss them over their shoulder and then squeeze together in a giant bear hug until they break with a giant "Mahalo." (It’s the best kind of chant…the who are, who are, who are we kind that causes wet pant laughter.)
There may have been certain points in my life when I would have worried about their safety or thought the play was too rough, but now I know this type of physical contact and interaction is vital to my boy’s overall emotional and physical well-being.
So here’s where my thoughts came into the picture and started asking a lot of questions…or actually began repeating the same question over and over.
The question that kept coming up was this:What types of physical connection do you have with the children in your life?
The first child that came to mind was my three-year-old nephew. His nickname, “Little Frog,” was given to him in the first week of life, but still suits him perfectly. There is just something soft, sweet and warm about him. He even has a name for his own hug-able nature. He calls it his “Heart.”
 |
| Wouldn't we all love to possess some of that? |
Markus looked as surprised as I was by this request, but said, “O.K.”
I will admit, at first it seemed a bit awkward.
But then as he lifted his shirt up perfectly to his chin and his scar from surgery filled my eyesight, the awkwardness melted away, and I was absorbed in the moment…a beautiful moment of connection.
“My goodness, you have a beautiful heart,” I whispered.
I could see his white teeth glowing in the sunlight as he smiled with his whole face.
“It’s because I was born with it,” he answered with certainty.
And because my eyes rested on his chest, it was easy to wrap my arms around him. I just remained there. No talking was needed as I became hypnotized by the beat of his sweet, fragile heart.
And when I felt his hands wrap around me, I knew our hearts were connected.
So at the conclusion of our hug, I said, “Max better see your heart too.”
He giggled.
Max looked for a few seconds and suddenly they were hugging as well.
“I think you are a big boy. Your heart is so big,” I teased.
“I think it is from the cookie I just ate,” he surmised.
And then we just sat there, my hand on his heart, his arms around my shoulders.
Suddenly, I heard the most beautiful sound.
As he nuzzled his nose into my hair and took a deep breath in, this tender little sigh of contentedness came out of his mouth as he exhaled.
“Mmmmmmm,” he murmured softly.
And then I kissed his nose and cheeks, and then told him how much I love him.
Before he ran off to play, he asked, “You are coming to my house tonight?!”
Now I was the one smiling with my whole face. This was his way of telling me he liked me.
How did he know?
It was exactly what I needed.
It has been a year now, since I filed for divorce. When I see Ben words are seldom needed now; the awkwardness is completely gone. With each encounter, my heart grows stronger.
After I finished teaching today and watched Max's practice, I went to BCI for an application to have the record of this little incident expunged off of my record, since it came up on my background check for nursing school. (Yes, twenty-one years later I am still paying for that stupid mistake!)
As I stood on the verge of whining about a trivial inconvenience in my blessed life, I was reminded of what truly mattered. My nephew resting his head on my chest, and I felt my blood pressure instantly lower. Suddenly a thought came to me:
I have learned more from his heart in three years than I could learn in a lifetime without him.
Coincidence?
No way.
Nothing on the journey called life is coincidental.
With every beat of his heart, my nephew will continue to guide me to the place I long to be.
There is just something about my three-year-old nephew that makes you want to wrap your arms around him and pull him close. And when you do, he never resists. He actually melts right into you. Pure little frogginess.
At the start of the picnic last night, our “hug ritual” occurred.
I pull him close and say, “I’m looove you so much. I think I will just keep you right here. Will you come live at my house?”
He smiles, (while simultaneously closing his eyes), and nods an emphatic “yes.” I nestle him in close and I plant a million little kisses on the soft spot right under his chin.
That is just what we do. Every.Single.Time.
Yes, my three-year-old nephew gets that from every member of our family, physical contact needed to flourish and prosper; we are good in that department.
So what about my seventeen-year-old?
Time to step into the light of realness, B.
(Have I mentioned that my heart hardly ever gets it wrong?)
Somewhere along the line, the physical contact between my oldest child and me has been watered down to a quick kiss on the forehead or a three-second hug if I even I tuck him in at night.
Perhaps the reduction in our physical contact over the years is a result of him getting “too old” for Mom’s long lingering hugs or heart time. Perhaps it is because his leaned out weight class physique no longer has the “squishy “quality it once had. Or perhaps it is because he doesn't stay home for long periods of time (not when one has so many friends to hang with!).
Well, my heart is not one for excuses, and I have learned that excuses are a waste of precious time.
"Did you know that I love you?"
He looked over at me, and through his smile said, "Yeah, I love you too." He gave me a playful, huge bear hug and was off to work. In the same way, I will embrace life. The fact of the matter is this: my seventeen-year-old needs physical connection (in some form or fashion) from his mom. In fact, it's critical. And vice-versa.
******************************************
Do you hug, squeeze, or play tag with your kids, nieces or nephews? I would love to hear!
