The thing about hugs is; you give one and you’ll get one right back. I watched Oprah yesterday, like I’ve been doing for the past 20 plus years of my life and most of her guests give her hugs. Or some will shake her hand. She’s Oprah. Enough said. I just noticed the hugs. Hugs are the only things other than words and food that reach down and touch people souls. I know I’ve been lifted up a many of days by hugs. (And by the way I appreciate all the people who give me hugs.)
The people invited to her show, who usually give hugs, walk up smiling and kind of gently pats Oprah on the back. She’s Oprah. The last thing people could do is put a soft hand on her back. Besides Elmo and Susan, Oprah was like the third person in the world I knew. My daily schedule was to watch Sesame Street, Oprah, naptime then meet my mom at the door. That’s how I learned to tell time. I sometimes say I’m lil’ Oprah, because I respect her work ethic and accomplishments. She’s done great things for a lot of people. You don’t just half ass a smile or hug at Oprah, or anyone for that reason.
Now, I’m a hugger. When I see my family or friends I always give them hugs. I’ll give bear hugs to people and really mean the hug. Like, I just took all the strength in my heart and connecting veins and hugged you. Then I’ll remember to breath.
I love Oprah. And if you’re watching the show and I’m on it, I won’t give Oprah’s back a small tap. I’m going to actually hug Oprah. I’ll give the same bone-crushing hug I’ve been issuing. I’ll just be there a moment. I may lift her spirits. You may see military-like security in the background shooing me away. I won’t be crushing Oprah. It’ll just be a real hug.
No comments:
Post a Comment