A Three Letter Word

It's a skill I'm not too good at unfortunately.

I've been told so by my own sister.

"You are NOT a good hugger," she says. And that is true - to some extent. I'm not sure when that happened or why but I am sure that when I was 3 and running around in my Wonder Women Underoos, I probably loved to hug.

Fast forward 15 years and there was a guy (a younger Richard Dreyfuss looking character) on my college campus who that was his thing. He hugged. Looking back on it I guess it seems a bit weird and maybe he was looking for more than I realized but he hugged everyone. And they were the kind of bear hugs that were comforting, soothing so far from home. I would see him around campus. "Anthony!" I would say and we would embrace and then be on our way.

Don't get me wrong. I can get a good squeeze on with my kiddos and my husband but for some reason with everyone else I am self conscious of my hugs and maybe this is a topic for a future therapy session.

I have been doing a lot of hugging lately now that I work with 5-year-olds at a school. Maybe for this fact alone I am getting better at it but for confirmation I will have to ask my sister. These little kiddos I work with like to hug, hold hands and some even sit on my lap.( I have been sick every few weeks since I started this new job and I think my hand holding may be the root of the problem.) But I do not shy from showing affection.

Some of the best hugs I've received have been in the last couple months. I am not sure what it is but these little ones know how to do it. No restraint - no second guessing. If they are moved to hug they do it. When we got back from Christmas break, in the first few minutes I was at school a little girl came up and hugged me and said "Happy New Year!"  My heart was full.

A few days ago, a little guy who gets frustrated daily with his limitations and the challenge of the day to day work (and sometimes isn't very nice) gave me a big embrace unexpectedly at dismissal. It was almost as if he knew I needed that to make up for his defiant behavior earlier that day. Again, my heart was full.

I have one little girl who says "tight squeeze" before the multiple hugs she gives me each day. For a 5-year-old, this gal can apply some pressure and after the third one I've typically reached my hug quota, but I try to be a good sport for hug 4,5 and 6.

I know that people are more affectionate in other cultures and that Americans often seem guarded. In fact, Pennsylvania's second lady Gisele Fetterman, who is from Brazil,  greets everyone with a hug - first thing. I know this from experience as a former member of the media. "I'm a hugger," she says. 

There is something to be said for human touch. I greeted a friend with a hug the other day and she said, "Boy, I needed that." It made me feel good to make someone else feel good. Especially knowing my reputation as a bad hugger. It is nice to tell people that you appreciate them but it is also good to SHOW them you appreciate them and sometimes a hug is just the thing.

So my challenge to you this week - give someone a hug. A good heartfelt squeeze and see what happens. It might be just what is needed to turn someone's day around.

Giving Freely

Her name is Anna.

Or so she said. She walked up to me in a Walmart parking lot as if I was someone she knew. She said she needed money to help feed her grandkids. I apologized because I truly didn't have any cash on me but I said I was willing to help her buy a few things.

We started walking toward the store, my youngest flanked me to my left. Anna asked how old my grandson was. I introduced "my son" and told her his name. She said hello.

She revealed she had recently moved here from Buffalo to be closer to her mom but two days prior her mom had died in a nursing home.

Anna began to cry.

I put my arm around her and tried to comfort her. I asked her a couple of questions. I was emotionally invested now. (How would I feel if I had just lost my mom?)  I asked what she was going to do now. Would she move back to Buffalo? Anna said no. I asked if she had other family in the area. She said no.

Older woman, down on her luck, no money, trying to feed her grandkids. I really didn't need to know much more.

My first desire was to physically take her shopping. Get a cart - fill it up with good nourishing food and pay for it. In that scenario I would have known exactly what my money was used for and be assured it wasn't going for "other" things.

I recall the story of my aunt in California who years ago was asked by a person on the street if she could spare some money. My aunt asked if he was hungry - he said yes. She personally took him to a nearby restaurant for lunch. Hard earned money well spent. No drugs. No brown bag alcohol.

But, for me, the other day I didn't have the time for an intimate shopping trip. I had to get home and make dinner so I could take my oldest to work. Plus, I was feeling pretty guilty about having my youngest tagging along for this. I mean we are always preaching stranger danger and here we were walking and talking with a complete stranger. I was nervous.

I couldn't remember if there was an ATM in the store so I decided to get cash back at a register. I asked her how much money she needed to buy groceries. A simple bag of potato chips at the check out allowed me to complete this transaction. She was very appreciative. Anna hugged me and thanked me. I told her I would keep her in my prayers then she went on her way.

My son looked up at me and said, "Mom, that was very nice of you." But I was torn. It would have been one thing to have been by myself for this experience but I truly wondered what I had taught my son. I want him to be safe and make safe choices as he gets older. I want him to help people who are in need but I don't want him to be taken advantage of. I truly didn't know if I'd just been had.

I tried to explain to him that based on the clues her story seemed believable. Long winter coat - much needed in Buffalo. Crooked teeth - possibly an indication of lack of money for dental care. Willing to stand at a self check out with a camera recording the transaction - nothing to hide.

My son and I decided to leave it at that. I explained that Jesus knew Judas was going to betray him and yet he still invited him to the Last Supper to break bread and share his company. While that story brought me some comfort - I kept replaying the previous couple minutes in my head trying to justify my action.

As my son and I made it to the check out, with our items, my little guy said to me, "I'm glad I'm nine-years-old and I don't have to worry about these kinds of things." I told him being an adult is hard but I believe we did the right thing. It is the right thing to help others but it is also good to proceed cautiously.

As we were leaving, I kept an eye out for Anna - succumbing to my curiosity and wonderment if she was talking to another unsuspecting customer. I did catch her talking briefly to a bearded man exiting the checkout but then she disappeared from site.

I had to leave it there. I initially wanted to contact the store just to alert them in case this was a scam. But I had to let it go. I probably will never know how Anna's story plays out. I wish her the best and hope she is able to get back on her feet and find peace after her mother's passing. But I also pray for the well being of my son - that as he gets older he will be able to safely help those experiencing unfortunate circumstances.

I hope my example did not set a precedent for his kind heart to be taken advantage of. It is a tough world we live in and it is unfortunate that helping someone "in need" is followed by feelings of uncertainly and distrust. A few years ago, a story came out about a homeless man who was collecting money along Route 22 in Monroeville who ended up having a million dollar home.

The blog Be More With Less by Courtney Carver tackles this topic. "Let go of your need to decide who deserves what. That’s not your job, or responsibility. It feels good to give without judgement."

So I guess that is where this story ends. I am glad that I had the means to be able to help Anna. But there is another possible take away from this encounter.  If there comes a day when my son is experiencing hard times, and he is alone, which, obviously, I hope is never the case, maybe he'll remember this day and know there are people out there who will help him - all he has to do is ask.

Pictures of You

It was always an unwritten rule.

No social media contact with ex-boyfriends. This was a rule out of respect for my husband. Old relationships were in the past for a reason and as someone who gets crazy jealous, I didn't want to set a precedent I would not feel comfortable with if the roles were reversed. 

Let's face it - the majority of us dated others before we found that truly special someone. I do know a few couples that married their first love but I, alas, did not. As Garth Brooks sang "thank God for unanswered prayers" and no truer song has ever been sung.

I personally do not have issues to resolve with these former significant others - I am not holding any torches for the less than 5 people I dated seriously before my husband. 

But that doesn't mean I haven't been curious. How did their lives turn out? Are they happy? What do they look like now? 

Over the years I have had the unexpected run in with an old flame. My favorite one is the one that occurred when I was eight months pregnant with my second child. I was feeling huge and awkward and my discomfort only multiplied by the fact that my husband was also part of the reunion. Talk about weird.

The strained conversation could not end soon enough but then my imagination got the better of me. What did he think of me? What did he think of my husband? Was he feeling a little regret or was my Mother Earth physique just enough to keep those thoughts at bay?

There has been one individual who has alluded me for decades. I don't think it makes me a bad person to admit from time to time I was curious about this person. We dated for 2.5 years. Not a long time when compared to the 22 years I've known my husband, but enough time to leave an impression on your heart. 

I just wanted to know how things turned out. Through contact with a mutual friend I knew he was married and had children. But I wanted to see what he looked like now and what his wife looked like. You know typical thoughts. I had no desire to actually chat with this person. Too much time had passed. 

My main social media platform has been Facebook, to which this person does not have a presence. A few years ago I created an Instagram account, just for posting artsy photos, but I didn't use it for more than a year. The funny thing was, when I finally was motivated to use it, I had twenty followers lined up to see what I was going to share and this particular former boyfriend was at the top of the list. 

Sometimes life is funny that way. 

I remember the first photo he liked of mine. It was a photo of an art installation in Downtown Pittsburgh with the lyrics to a Queen song. It did not surprise me that he liked it because he had been a big fan of the band. 

I remember feeling incredibly guilty for the above mentioned reason that I am a jealous person and I would have been a little miffed if one of my husband's old flames liked one of his photos. But I justified it as simply clicking on an icon. There were no words exchanged. No real contact made - just a little acknowledgment that "Hey, I like your photo." The contact ended there. That simply.

During the past year, he has probably only liked two of the things I posted, probably because I only post things here and there and probably because he has better things to do. But then the other day happened.

It was a quiet snow day evening and my phone started making alert sounds. A few back to back. When I checked my phone there was an actual Instagram written message from this former boyfriend. "I was just going through some old photos and thought you might like them. I hope you're doing well." He had attached 11 pictures of 21-year-old me straight out of the way back machine. 

The photos provided a step back in time that was not solicited or initiated on my part, in any way, but captured me just the same. I shared the photos with my kiddos and my daughter was so sweet. She said, "Mom, you look the same." (You gotta love four-eyed kids.)

I felt the need to respond to at least thank him for sending the photos. I kept it brief also stating I hoped he was doing well. He replied that he was and that he has great kids. 

Contact ended. Conversation complete. 

The feelings stirred up were mostly guilt so I shared the message and the photos the next morning with my husband. I didn't make a big deal of it because it wasn't really. Just a little trip down memory lane. My husband was quick to bring up how I would have reacted had the roles been reversed and I knew that to be true, but irrelevant.  

It is nice that after 23 years clarity can be precise. Things happen for a reason and although heartbreaks are a part of the journey, and, for me, it was a tough one a couple decades ago, I now see what God had in store for me. I am content knowing the road traveled led me to a man who helped me pick up the pieces and helped me create a home filled with three unique kiddos. 

It is weird to look back at that 21-year-old girl and know all the things that were in store for her. It is nice to be able to say I wouldn't change a thing and yes, I am well.

Please Bring Back 1975

For the past 6 years, I have been an active participant.

I make geographically appropriate recipes. We make up game themed bingo cards. I try to learn a few players' names. I make an effort to "enjoy" the Super Bowl.

It has been nine years since we last rooted for the Black and Gold in the big game. I remember this because I had a two week old baby and a new big screen television to improve the viewing experience.  I don't remember the game itself. In fact, I don't remember a lot about that point in time - thanks to the round the clock feedings. Did we win? But I digress.

My point is, the Super Bowl has been a family activity for a long time, with or without the Steelers, but there is always the big question mark leading up to the show. Yes, there is curiosity surrounding the commercials and who is going to win the bingo prize. (This year it was a box of Valentine's Ding Dongs, $10, and a Chick-fil-A gift card.) But then there is the buzz about the halftime show.

For some reason, this year I was so out of the loop I didn't even know who was performing until the day before. I really don't know how I missed this because I am usually grumbling weeks in advance about the entertainment choice. But even with the late notice I was scratching my head. Shakira and J-Lo? Why?

I guess they have run out of classic rock bands to pick from as it seems many of those talented artists are pushing 80 and others have gone to that great concert hall in the sky. It must be hard trying to find an act that appeals to a large audience a year in advance. When you are trying to plan a show that far ahead, I imagine it would be hard to judge what will be popular around the time the actual game is played.

So for those reasons I am not going to criticize the choice of the two ladies who provided a distraction from football for 15 minutes on Sunday. My premise is that it is possible to plan a "family friendly" show no matter who is lined up to sing.

The Super Bowl is one of the highest rated events of the year and the halftime show usually falls around 8:30 p.m. which could still be considered part of the defunct "Family Viewing Hour" which was established by the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) back in 1975 then overturned in 1977.  Under the policy, each television network in the U.S. had a responsibility to air "family-friendly" programming during the first hour of the prime time lineup (8 to 9 p.m. Eastern Time).

What can I say? I'm a child of the 70s.

Based on the chatter on social media since Sunday, the reviews go either way. Some were debating who was hotter. Some were trying to figure out who the silver man was who showed up for a minute, rapped with J-Lo and then was gone. Others were chastising Shakira for channeling her inner 3 year old when she repeatedly stuck out her tongue during her performance.

I came into the show with an open mind but once J-Lo took the stage, the repeated butt and crotch shots and the pole dancing made me uncomfortable in my living room with my kids. But to be honest, I was conflicted.

I know how old J-Lo is (50) and I know how hard she had to work to prepare for the show. You can plastic surgery your face all you want but you need to work out for hours a day, and not eat, to have a body like that and move like that at 50. That is a cold hard fact. I am 45, go to the gym 3 times a week and would literally end up in traction if I tried to swing on a pole.

My oldest tried to debate the issue that pole dancing isn't inherently sexual. To which I said, "In that outfit? Nice try, son."

Some have mentioned the lack of controversy after last year's halftime show with band Maroon 5 and lead singer Adam Levine taking off his shirt to expose his tattooed chest during their performance.  I have texts to my sister from one year ago saying I felt like I should have been in a room by myself  while watching his performance (with a pack of cigarettes for when it was over)  not on my couch with my husband, daughter and sons. For me, it isn't about sexism. It is about delivering something that is suitable for families during an event that attracts viewers of all ages.

In my opinion, the show would not have suffered by removing the pole. In fact, if it was that important maybe they could have introduced some firefighters to demonstrate how they use a pole. And maybe if the crotch shots were deemed necessary they could have used those to flash a reminder to ladies about their annual exam. Just sayin'

As the chatter dies down from Super Bowl LIV we have one year to speculate what will await us in 2021. I am not asking for an episode of Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood. I just want something I wouldn't see on Cinemax.