I was deeply saddened to learn of the death of Elizabeth Edwards. I don't know if I was already in need of a good cry or what but after reading several stories about how she chose to prepare her three remaining children (two of them are under thirteen, one grown) for her inevitable good bye, I found myself running to the bathroom in desperate need of tissue. I'm still emotional as I write this. She prepared them. As best she could. To her satisfaction. Then she could go. We know as mothers the plan is to live long, but not longer than your children. That's unthinkable. And so while I know she wanted more time, like any good mommy if given the choice, she would rather her children live on. She had a son who died at sixteen (unthinkable) and she called him an angel and was comforted by the thought of being reunited in Heaven with him. My thoughts went to my own feelings about being a mom. How could they not? I thought about something I now had that only my son could have given me. The Mommy hug. It's the hug I give my child every day several times a day. Oh, I always gave warm hugs. I come from a huggy family. But the way I hug now is... I realize that I hug my child with all my soul. My prayers. My hopes and dreams for him. Each time. Subconsciously I want to reassure him that if God forbid, something happened to me and it was my last hug, he would know how very much I love him and that I know how much he loves me.That it's going to be alright. He would know that being a mother is the greatest gift God gave me in a lifetime full of great gifts. He would feel how much I pray to God for his safety and his extreme happiness. He would know that with every fiber of my being I know he is going to rock the Universe the way he rocks my world! He will never have to wonder if he hugged me tight enough. In fact he will know that he gave me the Mommy Hug. A hug so jam packed with love, that when talking to his grandchildren or great-grands, he would be able to recall with perfect sense memory what my hugs felt like. I can imagine Elizabeth poured her soul into each and every hug. And although it could never take the pain of losing her away, those children don't have to wonder about the most important things ... the love between them. I totally get why my own Sweet Mommy's hugs are so comforting to me. Her hugs turn me into an instant four year old and I want to just curl up on the sofa and wait for her to make me a grilled baloney and cheese sandwich (even though I'm a veggie) with the crust cut off and a cup of hot chocolate to dunk it in! I'm smiling because my brother and I gave her that hug. The Mommy Hug.The cool thing is, when I meet new people or when I greet those I already know, all of my squeezes seem to be wrapped in this maternal blanket. So here's the deal ... every story about Elizabeth had the predictable paragraphs dedicated to the retelling of the non cancer related drama she went through these last few years of her life. What stood out online and on TV without exception was her love for her children. Because that is ultimately what matters. Go on. I know what you're going to do. I'm going to do the same thing right now. Elijah just woke up from his nap. Hug time.
