I had not hugged a friend or a family member since the pandemic until recently when my sister-in-law flew in for a brief visit. For everyone's safety, we met outside. Despite the wintry weather, her hug warmed me from the inside out. It's strange, but only now do I truly realize how much I've missed embracing loved ones.
Growing up through war in my hometown of Sarajevo, Bosnia, every moment was full of danger. On one peaceful morning, I had begged my mom to let me go outside after spending weeks indoors. She finally agreed. I was outside for only 10 minutes when I was caught in an explosion. I ran to my neighbor's house for safety and threw my arms around her neck just as my legs collapsed underneath me. She hugged me with both arms and dragged me into her house.
Thankfully, I made a full physical recovery, but the emotional scars never left me. Years later there was another explosion near my house. I was safe inside, but my father had left to buy a loaf of bread. He had only just missed the blast. When he came back inside, I gave him the biggest hug imaginable.
It is yet another sad aspect of our pandemic lives that hugging a stranger is the last thing on our minds. For many of us, even hugging a relative or a friend comes with stress and anxiety. Perhaps we have undervalued the impact of a simple hug. As I look back on my past, I count myself truly lucky to have been held, shielded and encouraged at some of the most key moments of my life by the almost super power of a hug. I pray that in the not-so-distant future we can safely hold one another again - a friend, a relative, or even a stranger.