REAL Hugs

I was watching Entertainment Tonight earlier and a segment about the Best Buddies ride in California caught my attention. Initially, the interview with Maria Shriver made me look up from my computer (the first miracle of the night per Carol). The cyclists on the Pacific Coast Highway brought back wonderful memories from last June and my heart rate jumped up a few notches. The biggest eye-catcher, however, was the scene of the finish line as the cyclists were met with intellectually and developmentally challenged children and adults with open arms.

I know those hugs. I felt them as a volunteer for Special Olympics years ago. Now before you give me accolades for such wonderful volunteer work, let me give you the facts. First of all, I was scared to death of the athletes. They were different and I had never been around anyone like them. Secondly, I was assigned the job of hugging the athletes as they crossed the finish line, walked to the water line, walked towards the award stage or wherever there was an opportunity to hug them. While this might sound like a great job, I was down-right terrified. You see, I didn’t grow up in a “huggy” environment. Love was never a question – but hugs were not a common practice. So there I was – assigned the role of hugging people and feeling the cold sweat of nervousness. Little did I know that these beautiful athletes would teach me how to “really” hug – not the cold, quick, barely touch someone hug – but a real hug. After my first hug, I fell in love with them and realized they weren’t scary at all. After the hundredth or so hug (if you’ve ever been to the Special Olympics, you know what I mean), I had officially mastered how to hug. They taught me two of the most important lessons I’ve learned in my life – just because we’re different doesn’t mean we’re scary and hugs can make you so happy.

On the infamous Day 2 of the 2011 AIDS LifeCycle – yes, the freezing rain day – I was huddled under the 3-foot roof overhang of a park building with a hundred other riders. I couldn’t stop shivering and couldn’t complete a sentence because my mouth wouldn’t work right from my teeth chattering. A guy next to me put his arms around me and said “cuddle up with me and see if that helps.” His big hug warmed me and helped me not shiver so much. I have no idea who he was but I sure love that guy!

As I think about so many of the stories I’ve heard from HIV positive men and women over the last year, way too often I have heard about the darkest side of stigma. The number of hugs that have been withheld are heart-breaking. Perhaps some of this is due to an anxiety similar to mine during my first Special Olympics encounter. If so, I pray the first hug can break through to change the ending of the stories I have heard. For so many, the biographies are still being written, so there is time. Medications can help the body and fight the progression to AIDS, but they can’t do what hugs can do. So if you know an HIV/AIDS friend, partner, acquaintance or family member – give them a hug – a REAL hug. It just might change your life.