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My sisters are both givers. When JFK said, “Ask not what your country can do for you—ask what you can do for your country,” they were listening loud and clear. They just chose to substitute “family and friends” for country.

They were not Patty Duked at birth. They don’t “laugh alike …. walk alike” but in so many ways are “two of a kind.” They are definitely “One pair of matching bookends, Different as night and day.” And that difference is highlighted by a physical action. Lynette hugs. Linda does not.

Lynette has the gift of a healing touch, a caretaker’s clutch that is warm and giving and sincere. It absorbs pain and reflects love. Recipients often respond, “I needed that.” Now they may need a Tylenol afterwards, but that’s because they had to bend pretty low to get the squeeze. Their hearts felt the love, but their backs were strained.

When it’s Linda’s turn for that close contact, she transforms into a 2x4. The metamorphosis occurs as soon as anyone extends their arms. She instantly transforms into a pine board - solid, immobile. Splinters are possible.

Now I’m not much of a hugger either. Tactile defensiveness runs in the family. In fact, the thought of being wrapped up in someone’s arms makes me want to sprint. There are advantages. The oversensitivity to touch, for example, made me a wrestler. From the very beginning I twisted and turned and squirmed to avoid being manhandled. Eventually, though, I got used to the diaper and calmed down.

That touchy-feely problem has not always been beneficial in my relationships. Julie’s gentle hand on my shoulder has on rare occasions been a catalyst for crossfaces and arm bars as I responded in my sleep. Fortunately, she’s quite an athlete and generally outmaneuvers me. Even better, she is forgiving.

A daughter’s friend once informed her that a real hug lasts at least ten seconds. I questioned that, but what do I know about optimal hugging. I’d guess there are studies that prove that holding someone close releases oxytocin and serotonin. The feel-good juices are unleashed, and we don’t want to let go. When I was sixteen, I might have volunteered for that experiment. I think I’m still kind of interested.

Interestingly enough, athletes have set some pretty high standards for the art of hugging. Win or lose, they hug. I’m surprised the International Olympic Committee hasn’t made hugging a competition. Can you imagine an arena for events like the Home-Run Hug, the First-Date Hug, and the Didn’t-Want-To-But-Did Hug? Huggies would surely sponsor the medals.

The sport’s hug actually started in 1894 when Gallaudet University football was playing against another deaf team. Supposedly, the quarterback didn't want his opponents seeing him use American Sign Language (ASL) to explain the play to his teammates, so he asked his squad to form a huddle. Huddle my foot. They just gave each other a great big ole hug and said, “Now we feel good enough to win.” The secret was in releasing a lot of endorphins, not in hiding the play from opposing forces.

The Guinness Book of World Records really values holding someone tightly. The largest group hug was not a football “huddle.” The record is 10,554 people, achieved in Ottawa, Canada in 2010. The most hugs given in one minute by an individual is 88 by Sam Thompson in 2024. The most hugs given in one hour is 1749 by Nick Vujicic in 2010. And, believe it or not, a couple in the USA held on for a 32-hour, 32 minute, 32 second hug in 2015. An impressive feat, but most states just call that a marriage.

I would guess that people have been hugging - platonically, romantically, diplomatically, or otherwise - since the beginning of time. It’s an invaluable activity that can grow on a person, and no one captures the goodness of a non-violent grip any better than Shel Silverstein in Hug O’ War:

I will not play at tug o’ war.
I’d rather play at hug o’ war,
Where everyone hugs
Instead of tugs,
Where everyone giggles
And rolls on the rug,
Where everyone kisses,
And everyone grins,
And everyone cuddles,
And everyone wins.

I still don’t know that I need the full ten seconds, but (with Julie’s permission) bring it on. I wanna be a winner … and, at this very moment, Linda’s loosening up and practicing for a medal in 2028.