As we are nearing the end of 2020, a year we will never forget, and cannot wait for this all to be over, we cope and keep moving forward.
The holidays are nearing but apprehension is also. Do we meet or don’t we, is the question. Do we have less people or keep it the same and take our chances, is also a question. Trying to buy food and the right amount comes into play, although the grocery store shelves may take care of that decision for us.
I do plan to have just my two sons, daughter-in-law and her parents, that is it. Normally, I would have all of my husband’s family in. While I love them, I am looking forward to a smaller crowd around my table, not tables. I normally would make part of my living room area look like a small cafe with four tables. It works and is nice but so nice not to do, too. Maybe next year. We will take food over to his elderly parents, so they are not in the midst of many. It will all work out and I think everyone understands the circumstances, even though we do not like what is happening.
The holidays are a time of laughter and for me, hugs to and from my sons, especially. I so miss them this year, more than ever. I know that my son and his wife are being very selective due to this virus. I feel my other son is also although he might be enjoying the slower pace of life. He is at the age, that he is busy and the selfish, sad side of me, thinking he is too busy for his mom. I do remember being his age and I was too busy for my parents. Perhaps that old saying, what goes around, comes around. Be Still is my motto. I know that he knows I am here, which was proven in a previous blog, So Far Away.
My oldest son was up last month to drop their dog off for me to watch. Upon arriving and leaving, NO hug. How hard this was for me while trying to keep it together as he pulled out of our driveway to go home, which was emotional. I found myself angry at this virus. I have done so well but this was just so odd to feel as though he was afraid to hug me, protecting me but I also needed to protect him. A blog is floating around in my writings, called, The Bubble.
So I am trying to prepare myself that I will probably not get hugs on Thanksgiving. I said I am trying, that is all I can do. If it was just the chance of hugging and only I would be a risk, then hug me. I will take my chances. Now that we know that nobody is exempt, no matter what age, precaution is warranted. Still, I will try to get through this but knowing I will fall apart when they leave. In that, too, I am preparing for and know that it is okay. I am a mom, moms need hugs.
If this pandemic would have been years earlier, I am unsure how I would have managed. I really don’t think as well as I have, I know so. Thank God in my counseling sessions with my former counselor, we discussed often the need I had for hugs, especially from a few mother figures in my life. While I knew I dealt with this, I never really understood why. Typical thinking of that I did not receive hugs from my mom, that is all. The yearning for the lost love was present within me.
This counselor dug deep within me to pull out the rejection, abandonment and shame, just to name a few. These sessions were not always easy to process but enough that I grasped the whys in my life. To walk in her office for help due to my marriage issues and while we did so, she then stopped and said, “Now let’s deal with you.” I will never forget that day. This was not at all what I was expecting, but she was wise enough to almost see the depths of my soul, it felt like. With no hesitation we continued and in those many, many sessions over the years, layer by layer, she peeled back my hurts. These sessions were not always pleasant.
Abandonment, a major part was exposed. Why did I not know this?To feel abandonment is cruel, almost a torment, screaming quietly, PLEASE DO NOT LEAVE ME, to deaf ears around me. As I sat across from her, so many times, I felt she heard my silent screams but making me say, Please Hug Me. This was so hard but became somewhat easier, as I learned to trust her more. Had it not been for her understanding and hugs at times, I don’t know if I would be capable of handling this year.
While she was not a motherly figure to me, as both of us being around the same age with her younger in fact, but I could project that on her at the times. Project, I believe is the right term. No matter, it was helpful, even though painful to pull up those thoughts, feelings and emotions.
So in doing so, years ago, acknowledging the whys within me of those hugs I desperately needed from many, I no longer yearn for now. It is like an escape from jail. Freedom. Don’t get me wrong, I love hugs and really miss receiving and giving, as we all do probably. Right now, it is frowned upon due to the virus. I’m okay with that, until it comes to my sons. I want to hug my sons. I need their hugs, too.
With less visits, they are busy in life, as I am also, but we are all in a different place in life, and I understand. I cannot help but feel that tug of abandonment. Abandonment, even from my own sons. I know though, I cannot linger in that place of feeling abandoned. I feel it, I acknowledge it and I release it. It throws a heavy punch in my gut but it does not stay. They both know I love them and I know they love me.
Will I hug my boys on Thanksgiving upon arriving or leaving and in between when possible? I don’t know. While my oldest is more precautious, my youngest is a hugger so this might be hard for him and I but we will get through this. Often I wonder if I ran into my former counselor in public, who said we could talk and I could have a hug, if that would even happen now. This virus is the pits. If not, I know and I know that she knows I will have to deal with the gut-punch and the emotions, but mostly that I will get back up and continue in this hugless year.
So how are you dealing with less hugs and less togetherness with friends and family this year?
🍂 Before I forget, Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family. 🍂