I don’t mean hugged them, I mean really hugged them.
It doesn’t matter the relation. Biological, adopted, foster, or guardianship, the question remains the same: have you hugged your kids today?
Not like it’s an obligation and they’re an inconvenience, but like it’s an honor and they’re a blessing.
And I’m not talking about the usual fleeting hugs you give them as you rush off to work, I’m talking about hugs that remain with them long after you’ve left.
Do you hug them with such singularly focused determination that they feel safe, loved beyond measure, and blissfully unaware of their own mortality? That they feel untouchable from all the fears and insecurities of life that their little hearts secretly endure?
Do you grip them so deeply that they feel nothing bad could befall them as long as they remain in your embrace? That they are sheltered from the chaos of a world around them that’s gone mad?
Do you hug them so passionately that in your arms is the only place they want to be? That when they grow older they will look back on those hugs and yearn to be in that moment with you again?
Do you hug them with such an abiding love that they will long to return to that place—and that very moment in time—where mommy and daddy loved them like crazy and made them feel like nothing else in the world was more important, more precious, or more sought after?
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