Big and Small
My grandmother was a big woman.
I didn’t know it at the time. As you get older you begin to categorize and label the world: fat and skinny, old and young, good and bad.
But I was young enough that she was just “Grandma,” and that was enough.
I was just five-years-old when she died, so there are only two things I remember about her: her laugh, and her hugs.
Her laugh was kind of a giggly, bubbly thing, like she was fighting to keep the joy inside and losing.
And her hugs- oh, her hugs! Because she was big and I was small, her hugs just enveloped me, surrounding me with warmth and softness and love.
All these years later, and I still tear up remembering those hugs.
I really believe God put large women on this earth to hug small boys.