Hugs, Hugs, and How They Hurt

Note: This starts out really general, and then takes a weird turn for the personal. Enjoy it.

A sort of general, rambling update. Last week was the last of preschool. A relief, but a sad one. I didn’t get to say goodbye to a lot of the kids, but I did get lots of hugs. Hopefully two will be coming to my camp this summer – they were really too old for preschool, and they were great kids. And then yesterday was the last day for Homework Club at JL. MAN that was sentimental. My posse of girls were giving me all kinds of hugs. I must have hugged the sweetest one a good ten times. At the end I ruffled her hair and gave her a kiss on the head. She’s a great kid, her teacher says so and everything. It warms your heart to meet such a sweet kid.

And then most of my tutoring ends next week as well. My best student continues right up until I have to start preparing for summer camp – and I mean the day of, too. He is so smart, he hardly needs me. But we have fun. Scratch that, he doesn’t really need me for math, I am only some help for that. I help a lot with his English homework. Luckily that’s my strong suit….

I’ve been talking a lot to my estranged uncle Steve lately. I haven’t seen him since I was three, but he seems to really like talking to me. Mom….well, I don’t think she dislikes us talking. But she’s not going to welcome him back into the family with open arms. The way Papa explains it, perhaps it’s understandable. Even when I was three, I liked my uncle Steve. I can’t exactly say why. Maybe there isn’t a reason. He’s planing on coming out to Portland in August, and he wants to see me then, so I think that will be nice. We play a lot of backgammon over Skype (I win).

Since Peggy Sue is now among the dearly departed and I couldn’t dump the tank on anyone, I decided to keep it and turn it into an herb terrarium. In a flurry of activity, I got it all set up on Tuesday. I have sage, sweet mint, thyme and tarragon. Only the stupid people at Lowe’s lied to me and put a mint in the tarragon, and since I’m not educated enough to know the difference….I now have two mint. Grrrrrr.

Not much else is happening. I’m chaperoning a dance on Friday. I blew a considerable amount of money in May (and I mean considerable), which is really the only reason I’m doing it. Saturday I plan on going hiking at Powell Butte, since it’s my favorite hike spot in Portland and the weather will FINALLY be good. Mom retires in a week and she wants to try making a pie a week. Which I am totally okay with. And we’re planning a garage sale. Boy, is this boring, or what?

I woke up thinking about the guy who burned me last summer. Probably because my uncle asked about him, but I don’t know why. And then lately I’ve been thinking of the time before that, with Matt (he’s in New York and I have never spoken to him in a year and a half, I don’t think naming names is a problem). My friends would kick me over this, but I found myself missing him. Not him, because he was a shallow jerk. I guess you could say I missed the idea of him. Wow that sounds dumb.

Here is what I miss – I had just asked him out and we were walking out together, in the elevator, and I asked if I could hug him. And he gave that winning smile and said I didn’t need to ask, and it was a warm, tight hug. I’m getting goose bumps writing about it (because I am that physically starved, ha ha). And it was all terribly fake, and do not be mistaken: not for a single moment do I wish it had worked out, I really dodged a bullet. So it’s not even the “idea” of him that I was missing (this was about a week ago, I’m not in the throes of depression or anything). It was that hug. I was always a huggy person. When I was little, if I was lonely and couldn’t sleep, I would take towels into bed to hug, or build up pillows so that it was like laying on my father’s chest, sometimes with a clock underneath to act as a heartbeat. I’m old enough that I don’t do that anymore, and I’ve gotten enough psychiatric help to not feel alone and needy. But I still miss hugs. And Mom, when you read this, no, you don’t need to hug me more often…. I miss something that hasn’t happened yet – but it will. I will have that elevator hug from someone who means it.

….I have no idea how much sense this made, but let’s wrap it up there! Yeah, tarragon and stuff!


About emilydnelson

A recent graduate of Hofstra University with a B.A. in anthropology, Emily is like every other twenty-two year old on the planet - trying to figure out what the hell to do now. Follow as she struggles with writing, her social work job, and bopping from coast to coast.
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