musings of a lover… of … yes… that, too…


Music Man and Professor Dr. Guthrie "Guy" Ramsey and me

My friend, Guthrie “Guy” Ramsey, calls me Hugsy. He says that every picture he sees me in, I’m hugged up with someone. And, he’s right for the most part. I love people. My family and friends mean the world to me. And hugging them is my way–skin-to-skin–of saying, I’m here for and with you. I think too much “touch” happens in harmful ways: at the end of a fist or a gun.

My beautiful granddaughter and me

I want to be a part of that group of lovers who provide healing touch. Hugs are just the start. But they are, I believe a really good start.

My beloved friends, SahLeem and Raymond and me

I don’t know how I became such a “hugger.” I don’t remember being hugged that much growing up. I felt loved–deeply, but our family wasn’t touchy-feely. But as a parent and as a friend and lover, I am so the opposite. I hugged and kissed my boys and their friends so much, I irritated them.

My beautiful artist-friend-daughter Jessica and me

My hands communicate much better than any words I say, “I love you; I care about you; I want you to be well.”

I gladly embrace Guy’s nickname for me. I am Hugsy. And I love it.

The Voice(s) Lawrence, Thomas and me.

My beautiful sisters Gwen, Pam, Deb and me

I am testifying against being touch-starved. I want those I love to know that love feels good, and warm and whole. So, I say “thank you” with a hug, and “I believe in you” with a hug, and “you’re somebody special” with a hug.

One of my besties, Rev. Catharine Cummings and me

I often say (and I really mean), Love is my calling card. Hugsy. Yeah. That’s me.

My beautiful goddaughter Christina and me


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