Hug Me Tight

Mentioning the hospital in Santa Ana the other day got me to thinking about my friend Beverly.  She was a staff member in Medical Records when I interned there.  Believe it or not, I tend to keep a low profile in any new circumstance, and I was definitely the newbie then.  I watched and listened, and I thought I could become friends with the large blond woman who had a smile for everyone.  Our fate was sealed the day we were working side by side at the card files.  (Oh, come on...computers were new then and not to be trusted.)  As I said, the MR department was in a cramped trailer and Miss Smith ran a tight ship...laugh on your own time.  Anyhow, Bev and I were shoulder to shoulder and I said, sotto voce, "You'd better stay on my good side today."  The look on her face!  "Why?"  "Because I only had enough deodorant for one arm."  Bev almost got in trouble with the redoubtable Miss Smith when she burst out laughing.  I knew then we were destined to become lifelong friends.

I was not raised in a demonstrative family.  I don't think I ever saw my father and mother kiss.  Even the kisses I received were brief and on the cheek.  Hugs were rare.  Given that background, I was a little uncomfortable with Bev at first.  She was a toucher.  She put her hand on your arm while talking.  She was a hugger.  Over time I not only got used to it, I found I liked that friendly human contact.  Beverly had three sons and I had my four Kids, pretty much in the same age group.  We used to have picnics and go to the beach together, and Deb and Bev's youngest son went to Deb's high school prom.  Bev went through some rough times, especially with her second husband, and I was glad to be there for her.  She was not a whiner.  She was a survivor.

Beverly had been invited when Steve and I got married, and I was a little hurt that she was a no-show with no word of why.  It turned out she had been rushing through the airport to catch her flight, slipped, fell, and broke both wrists.  Can you imagine both arms in casts?!  Think of all the things you couldn't do.  She did come to Sacramento when she was able, and made a number of visits up here.  Our friendship never flagged.  I was unbelievably sad when one of her sons let me know Bev had died.

I miss her hugs.