The Power Of One Unexpected Hug

We don’t outgrow the need for a hug. Not as children, not as adults, and certainly not in grief.

Hugs are one of the most human things we can offer each other. They go beyond words. They don’t fix anything, they’re not meant to. But they say something grieving hearts desperately need to hear: You’re not alone in this.

When someone we love dies, we don’t just miss their voice or presence we miss their touch. We ache for the way they held us, reached for our hand, or pulled us in close without needing a reason. Our bodies remember that comfort long after they’re gone. That absence can feel just as painful as anything else we carry.

It took me some time to realize how much I longed for human touch. It wasn’t until a recent encounter that it really hit me. I went to see a band with my sister, a band that happened to be led by someone I once loved, before I met John. It had been over 45 years since we’d seen each other. There was no romance, just a quiet kind of nostalgia. The night was awkward in places and we barely spoke. But at the end, he hugged me, really hugged me. Then he pulled back and almost took my face in his hands. I didn’t quite know what was happening, but he looked at me softly and said, “It’s been so nice to see you, Kathie.”

I walked away feeling… unsettled. It wasn’t romantic, but it stirred something deep. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, about John, about love and what it means to be held. So I sat with that moment and unpacked it. And what I discovered surprised me: I wasn’t looking for a person. I was looking for a feeling. That feeling of being held, of being seen, of being touched in a way that reminds you, you are still alive. You still matter.

That’s the power of touch. Of one honest, unexpected hug.

For many grieving people, especially those who’ve lost a partner, days can go by without physical connection. The world moves on. Words come and go. But the body still longs for what it knew.

If you’re grieving, it can be hard to admit you miss being hugged. That longing is not weakness it's our longing for connection.

If you love someone who is grieving, don’t underestimate the power of a hug. Ask gently. Offer slowly. Let it be real. We’re not just hearts in pain. We’re bodies carrying that pain. And a single, kind hug can speak louder than anything else.

I’m still not sure what the future holds for me. But for now, I know this: love doesn’t always show up as romance. Sometimes, it’s a quiet hand on your shoulder. A hug you didn’t expect. A reminder that even in grief, you are still worthy of being held.

If you want to hear the story go to my podcast "love in the morning" or my YouTube channel https://youtu.be/xzptFiCksDw?si=Ja_UobS-LmjUWZ2K

Love always,

Kath

That’s the power of touch. Of one honest, unexpected hug.