Free Hugs

Students returned to classes today on the campus of Northern Illinois University in DeKalb.

As these young adults are still trying to come to grips with the tragic shooting attack, by a former sociology student, that left five of their fellow students dead and nearly 20 wounded, they must, somehow, return to their jobs of learning.

I can only imagine how surreal walking through the campus must feel to them. It doesn't seem possible to me that any of them would be able to concentrate on their studies or think about anything other than the events of February 14 that left some of their friends injured and others dead.

In my life, I can only recall two events that left me feeling as lost and utterly hopeless as I imagine many of these students must be feeling now.

The first was when my father passed away and the second was the terrorist attack of September 11, 2001. Although it took quite a bit of time to return to normalcy from both events, eventually I was able to move past the sadness and return to the task of living my day-to-day life. Thinking back on those events today, what I regret is not giving hugs.

During my father's funeral, my little sister sat next to me in the first pew of the church. I looked over to her and saw that she was crying. I was crying too, but instead of hugging her or holding her hand, I just turned back to the priest and tried to concentrate on the homage he was paying to my father. When I think about the funeral today, I can't remember a single word that priest said, but I can remember that I didn't offer comfort to my sister. I sincerely regret that.

When the planes hit the World Trade Center on September 11, I was at work. As it became clear that it wasn't an accident, but that the US was under attack, most of us, at the office that day, gathered in front of a small television set watching the events unfold. When the first building started to collapse, tears started streaming down my cheeks. I looked over and Jennifer, one of my co-workers, was also crying. Instead of giving her a hug, or even placing my hand on her shoulder to offer comfort, I simply turned away. I sincerely regret that as well.

It seems that I give hugs freely in happiness, but in sadness, I detach. I wonder if that's a character flaw? Now that I'm aware of it enough to admit it, it's something that I will work to change.

On my drive home from work today, I heard a news story on WBBM out of Chicago that one student, John Sprinkle, stood outside on the NIU campus all day today with a "Free Hugs" sign. The story quoted the young man as saying he had lost count of the number of hugs he had given, but he knew that people needed them.

I agree. Not just to celebrate the happy times or to express affection, hugs are needed to heal sadness.