The Swarming Hug Thing

It’s that first time you lay eyes on each other in a long while, and they are many but you are one (or two).

For Ken and I, it doesn’t happen until we step into the meeting room for evening worship time.  Just the timing of things; our arrival, our need for a jet-lag survival nap, their return from school, when supper is served.  No proper first-greeting has yet taken place.

But coming through the door, there it is.  That one who sees us first and says our names with a burst of yay, and comes running.  This alerts everyone else, and there’s a slow-mo, over-the-top moment of happy swarming.   The only thing to do is to stop right where you are, put down anything you are carrying, and attempt to receive as much of this joyful connection as you possibly can in the moment.

I can’t express how much this always means to me. 

Of course, hugs are beauteous anyways.

Hugs from children are especially phenomenal.

But happy, running, swarming hugs from kids you know deeply as being ‘from your heart’ (aka grandchildren), that’s breath-snatching.

Last time, last November, when I came by myself for three weeks following an almost three-year absence, something was off in this.  I wrote about it (Hokey Pokey), painfully remembering the easy, attentive connection of every other single time here, that has been such a big factor of why this family is family. 

I wanted to be patient with the ‘trauma=informed’ process of rebuilding trust necessary due to pandemic travel realities, and wait for their cues.  We are humans in a crazy world, and these are young humans already exposed to traumas of varying sorts my white-privileged experience can’t ever fully understand.  Trust is delicate. 

So last time, last November, I did my best to remain emotionally available.  Followed their cues, not really sure if it was working.

But by tonight.  Well. 

Like you I suspect, I often wonder just how did they capture ‘that moment’ on video or picture to post it online?  For this, no one was assigned.  And I for sure had my hands full.  So, I do not have a picture of the swarming hug thing to put with this post.

No matter.  I do have a picture of the now-famous salt and pepper shakers that, earlier in this story, when I truly had no words to describe how painful was our planet-stretched separation, helped convey my love and commitment even then.  And it’s only grown by now.   Bonus feature of this picture, though, is how our Sponsored Child Eak, who is 17 now but into sculpting things back then, made this replica.  It's as if he captured somehow the significance of it all, even then.

I have the Thai words now, so…or….maybe I don’t.  Because in English or Thai, how can this actually be described, explained, articulated in mere words?  Really, how can it?

 What I did get pictures of, however, was every child with what they received from their Sponsor in their packets (or envelopes for the older teens).   If all goes well for today’s plan (code for, if jet-lag doesn’t crush too much) I will do my best to send a personal email to each of the Sponsors.

We’re really here!

And I suppose I should say it’s so lovely for me to be here with my best hugger ever.