Hugs Are Okay

There are few experiences more fulfilling to parents than watching their children immersed in the joy of life: playing, exploring, learning and inevitably growing up. My oldest daughter, Mindy, has always been possessed of that rare and wonderful spirit that not only inspires by example but also fills the world around her with love.

It is that undeniable spirit that is occasionally beset with the kind of earthly trials that are meant to help us grow as children of our Heavenly Father. It is one of life's ironies that these times of testing seem to come more frequently to those who are strongest, those who have long since been proven in adversity, those who are loved for what they have already given to a world so in need of their special gift.

When for a very long time I was not able to be with Mindy and her sister Fiauna, I often recalled not only their times of joy but their times of pain and fear, when as a consoling father I held them and loved them that much more. In their absence, I missed both those kinds of experiences. I missed being a part of all the aspects of their lives, both the pain and the happiness. But time and distance prevented me from being there as a father and friend when the need seemed the greatest. It is an empty place in my life I will never be able to fill.

Once, when Mindy was very young, her rambunctiousness led to a broken collarbone. I remember carefully holding her as she cried. I had never felt so much a father as I did then, determined to reassure her, wishing that I could take her pain upon myself.

The last few days, as I stood at Mindy's bedside, she was once again that delicate little girl, so fragile that as I reached for her hand, I feared to hold it too tightly. She squeezed back firmly, reminding me that here was a young woman of great strength and faith. My eyes began to cloud with tears, not of sympathy but of pride. Though she was still just a little girl to me, I began to see more clearly the beauty of her spirit and a wisdom far beyond her years. It was then that she looked up at me, smiling, and in her own special way became the reassuring friend. I listened carefully as Mindy began to speak, and though she struggled to form the words, I heard her message. "Hugs are okay," she whispered, and at that moment, perhaps just a little of that empty place from so many years ago began to be filled.