HUGS FOR LONELY HEARTS

As the spiritual advisor of our Widowed Persons Services group I arranged for a tour of a large local residential care facility. After introductions and a short orientation, Susan, the administrator, started us on our tour of the facility.

She guided us through the large parlor and dining area. Then we walked down the wide corridor to the residents' living area. Susan knocked on a resident's door and asked if our group could see her apartment. From years of experience working with residents in care facilities one of the first things I look for is respect for a resident's right to privacy. Susan, by asking before entering, was respecting that right.

A feeble, faint voice responded, "It's unlocked, come in."

Susan opened the door cautiously and greeted the frail, little, white haired lady seated in a chair near her window. Then she welcomed our group in. After Susan introduced our group to her, the sad lady hung her head and turned toward the window. She gazed at the nearby garden and appeared almost oblivious to our presence.

While our guide was explaining the features of the apartment to the rest of our group, I quietly walked over and knelt down in front of this little shriveled up lady.

I said to her softly, "Hi, I'm Don, what is your name again?"

She turned her head away from the window, glanced toward me and replied, "I'm Mary. What do you want?"

"I just want to talk with you and ask you a favor," I said as I looked into her sorrowful blue eyes.

"I used to help my family and friends, but I'm too old to help out anymore. I don't have any friends left and my family doesn't visit me very often. I don't have any energy to even take care of myself, let alone do any favors for others," she replied as she glanced downward.

"Well, I just wanted to ask you if I could have a hug." I responded.

She looked up, her blue eyes sparkled slightly and a wrinkled smile crossed her
face, "Oh, that would be nice, I haven't had a hug in a long time."

Her thin drooping arms opened and stretched out toward me. I placed my arms around her and gave her an ever so gentle hug. I felt her feeble arms respond. In a few brief seconds two hearts had hugged.

Her beautiful blue eyes were now aglow and a wrinkled smile stretched across her pale shriveled face.

"Thank you Mary, I needed that."

"Me too, what was your name again?"

"Don."

Susan interrupted, "It's time to move along on our tour."

I walked to the door and turned around. Mary and I waved goodbye and smiled at each other. Our day was complete.

During my years of pastoral care I shared hugs with hundreds of shut-ins in their homes, hospitals, nursing homes and care facilities. It was a very rare occasion that anyone declined to share a hug.

How often my shoulder felt the warm tears of isolated elderly and disabled folks. To see tears turn to smiles is always a great joy to me.

Don E. Cunningham, Author ©8-20-2007 529

OUR HUGGING SINGING WAITRESS

As I continue my series on "HUGS" there are many waitresses, whom I have hugged, who come to mind. The one I write about this week has a very special place in my memory. As you read on I am certain you will see why.

It was our first overnight bus trip in over two years. I have a myriad of health problems and was testing the waters to see how I would hold up. On our way to Tucson, we stopped at Basha's Western Art Museum. There were over 1500 works of art to enjoy. I took fifty or sixty photos with my new digital camera.

When we arrived at our hotel I checked my camera to see how many mega pixels were left. I pressed the wrong arrow on the camera. When I pressed the set button the camera reformatted the disk. I felt so badly that I knew I couldn't rest, so I walked down the street to another art museum and gallery. I wandered through it. A sign indicated that no photography was allowed.

When I arrived back at our hotel, Sharon had awakened. I told her about losing all of the photos and how badly I felt. She reminded me that we still had them in our heads and our hearts.

By early evening I was beginning to feel the strain of the trip. The final plan for the night was to have dinner and attend a country-western dinner show. I was beginning to wonder if I would be able to make it through the night.

We were seated as a group. The host explained how the dinner would proceed and gave a little history of the singing group. He told us that our waitresses would be with us shortly.

As he walked away, our waitress approached our table with a broad smile beaming across her face,

"Hi, I'm Linda, and I'll be your waitress this evening."

I responded with, "Hi, I'm Don, this is my wife, Sharon and I will by your hugger tonight."

Her arms flew open and her eyes sparkled, "Oh, I LOVE HUGS!" She exclaimed.

A gentleman at our table commented that he didn't believe in hugging people you just met. I smiled and said, "Great, I'll take his hug, too." Another hug followed.

I usually hug waitresses and other staff when I meet them and when we are leaving. This dinner turned out differently.

Throughout the evening, when serving us, Linda stretched out her arms for more hugs. She was one of the most outgoing waitresses I ever met. Her smile was contagious. She also had a knack for idle banter.

About halfway through the musical program the spokesman announced that their singing waitress was going to sing for the group and a special friend. As Linda flowed gracefully across the stage she threw me a kiss. I had not realized our waitress was also a singer. Her beautiful voice burst forth with "Help Me Make It Through The Night." She was dynamite!

Shortly after she sang, I felt her hand on my shoulder. As I turned to see who it was she smiled and said, "I sang that just for you, Sweetie." I thanked her and we shared another hug.

When the program was over I walked over and thanked her. We gave each other a parting hug.

As Sharon and I turned to leave, she repeated, "I sang that just for you, Sweetie."

I believe we both realized that we had helped each other, "Make It Through The Night."



Don E. Cunningham, Author © 8/11/07 545