After a period of time we meet and say hello to our son. I, the mother, hugs and kisses and “I love you”. Touch, touch the face. I must touch the face to make sure he is all right. That is motherly behavior, motherly thoughts.
My husband then greets our son. “Play” hits him on the stomach. My son returns the gesture. Then one laughs. The other laughs. “Hey Buddy.” (Not his name.) “Hey Buddy,” returns the other. They finally shake hands with the free hand on each other’s shoulder. Two men, like two little boys, “hitting” each other as a way of greeting one another. Finally, a hug between father and son.
How strange…I think. Some greeting. It must go back to the days of primitive men, before they could speak, when they groaned or grunted and perhaps pawed one another as a form of greeting. Or in recognition.
How different we are, mothers and fathers toward our children. And yet it works. I think it must be the love behind all the different rituals we follow. No matter what you do when you see someone you love, it’s the feeling manifesting itself through our gestures. The look of gladness in our eyes. The love that is way back there and works its way to the surface. It is wonderful.