A good while back, standing amongst the parents, grandparents, and kids in the pick-up area outside C.C.’s school, I started playfully joking with Jay, a boy from her first grade class last year. I don’t recall exactly what instigated an eventual near-daily banter of me asking Jay: “Where’s my sandwich? Come on, bud, I’m huuuungry!”. But it became our thing. Jay would promise me that tomorrow he’d bring my sandwich, and he might even throw in a cookie. We’d laugh and high five. He’d go his way with his troop. We’d go our way with ours.
This carried on for weeks. Not too long ago the sandwich routine looked like it was wearing on him — the kind young thing appeared to feel sincerely guilty for not bringing me my overdue lunch. So I changed it up, asking for a big hug instead. Who needs a bunch of bologna when you can sustain on the sweetness of a 7-year old?
I wasn’t sure if Jay would go for that. Some kids remain shy even when they kinda “know” you. But he was game, and that became our new thing. I came to expect a quick hug from him in the pick-up area. I did not expect to see the ways he would adapt his hugs to the circumstances, that he would go to such great lengths to make sure I got my hug no matter what.
The first time was still just outside the school, where Jay was a good 30 feet away. As soon as he spotted me, he broke away from his friends and came running. Big ol’ bear hug, and then back to his group. Thanks, bud!
The second time was inside the school, when another mom and I were decorating the hall by the library where student artwork would be displayed. Jay walked up from the cafeteria with a friend, carrying a breakfast tray and deep in conversation. When he saw me, he interrupted his schoolmate: “hang on, I gotta do a thing.” He came up to me, delivered a one-armed bear hug, smiled, and went back to his friend and on to class. Melt my heart!
Then, a couple days ago, my husband and I were walking to pick-up later than usual. As we approached the corner to turn toward the school, I heard “Hey C.C.’s mom, AIR HUG!!” I swiveled to see Jay’s head out the window of an SUV pulling away. He waved. I melted. Air hugs.
AIR HUGS!!
I was blown away. Why was this the first time I heard the phrase “air hugs”? Why wasn’t this invented sooner? I’m the farthest things from trendy, so it’s possible air hugs are popular things. But they were new to me, I just got my first one, and I felt like I discovered the greatest thing since Taylor Swift.
I also couldn’t believe how compelled Jay was to get my attention, let alone creatively hold up our deal. I hadn’t seen him in the car. He could have just kept joking with his friends and caught up with me the next day. Or the one after that. Or never. Instead, this sweet second-grader sent me an air hug.
I don’t think I’m anyone special. I often feel pathetic — I’m a career-confused, older mom who had sworn long ago in her 20s she’d never be one, and who ironically sets her own parenting bar ridiculously high and feels like she misses the mark on an hourly basis. I’m not naturally drawn to taking care of a bunch of kids. I occasionally help out in small ways — walk the neighbor’s kids to school if needed, corralling kids for the school book fair — on my terms, tending to limited numbers of children in a give time period and setting. Last year I unknowingly volunteered to be a room mom. I had no idea what that entailed until I was already in the role and barely knew what I was doing. It amounted to executing three hour-long class parties across the school year, for 20+ sugared-up kids. I don’t regret doing it at all, but it certainly challenged skillsets I didn’t think I had — managing, teaching, and caring for lots of children with a wide range of personalities, attention spans, and unique needs.
So, earning Jay’s trust and affection is a big deal to me. I never would’ve guessed our interactions to continue for this long or in the way that they have. It’s such a little thing. A goofy hug. Sometimes of the air variety. And the hugs could end tomorrow. Jay may forget all about them, or wonder who was that crazy lady who always hit him up for a sandwich. Even if I don’t get another, I am moved by them.
The world carries so much hurt, so much hatred. It festers locally, with fighting and violence flaring up at sporting events, at state fairs, and unfortunately even at our elementary school. To witness the contrast of such innocent love, to directly receive this daily dose of kindness that is not at all required (even though we joke it is), brings me immense joy. Those hugs lift me up. Every single time.
I hope the world does not squash Jay’s spirit, his generosity, his heart. The cynical me fears it will. But maybe we can all keep paying these air hugs forward, enough to buy his sweetness as much time as possible.
“Walking on air” hugs triggered an ear worm of a theme song from my youth.
Look at what's happened to me
I can't believe it myself
Suddenly I'm up on top of the world
It should've been somebody elseBelieve it or not I'm walking on air
I never thought I could feel so free
Flying away on a wing and a prayer, who could it be?
Believe it or not it's just me
While not completely lyrically appropriate here, the song’s overall sentiment fits. I’m walking on air hugs — small acts of kindness full of enormous power. “I never thought I could feel so free.” Or so loved.
Sending you all air hugs to carry around in your day. Unlimited supply, so please pay them forward!
Comment!
What’s your “air hug” moment? What doses of sweetness lift up your day? That you’ve given or have received?
Oh, this makes me feel good and happy. Air hugs. Fabulous. I have a neighbor friend who doesn't cook or bake much (her 50-year-old son has cerebral palsy in a wheelchair, and her husband died nine years ago) so I always take them food. It doesn't require any effort on my part other than packing up the goods and walking or driving up the road. I always bring Cooper even though he's not an official therapy dog, he brings her so much joy. But the best part is when she hugs me with thanks. I know how much my simple gesture means to her and also, to me.