I Hug Now...

For those of you who know me well, you know that I have never been much of a hugger. I would always tense up or do the side hug to avoid full contact. I have even been known to just shake hands instead as well as the occasional high five. I don't know why hugs have bothered me so much in the past, but they have. Even my cheer girls knew never to hug me. 3 weeks ago, after whatcing this documentary on fears, I decided to treat myself with a lesson in exposure. Exposure is where you constantly expose yourself to the thing that scares you until you overcome your fear. So for the past three weeks I have been giving hugs and getting hugs. I tell you what... the high school kids are loving it, cause that's just what they do. I'm glad that I did that because I am loving all of the hugs I have received this week! They are so comforting! I was talking to my Mom on the phone this morning and she expressed to me her sadness of not being about to put her arms around her son and to let him know that everything is going to be okay. I can't imagine the fear and emotions that she is feeling. I know how strongly I fear and how often I have to excuse myself to allow myself a selfish minute to grieve, and I am not even his mother. As more time passes, and I allow myself to make more and more inappropriate jokes about the situation in order to hide my real feelings, the more I fear that I may never get to see my brother again. To be honest, we were never super close, but we always had fun together. I think he looked at me like the one in the family he could share his rebellious side with because I shared those same tendencies. Jason is a good kid. He is a great brother. A hard worker. And the Jason I know never seemed to have fear. He is the boy that sang in front of an entire classroom to ask a girl to Homecoming. He is the boy who overcame his handicap of stuttering and made friends easily. He is the boy who when he was younger shaved his eyebrows off. We called him Ghost Boy. He is the boy that when his Grandparents needed help at their house in the middle of nowhere in Washington, he devoted an entire summer to them without complaint. He is the boy that sent his younger brother a surprise video message to his Court of Honor when he couldn't be there. He is a sweet, kind, and helpful person. I love him. I have to admit the guilt I feel about the last phone call I had with him Sunday night. What if he was reaching out to me and I missed it? What if he was trying to tell me something. What if that is the last time I will ever talk to him? I wasted that phone call. I know I need to have faith and be positive, but it's getting harder and harder. I have faith that he is alive. I have faith that he will come home. I have faith that he knows how much we love him and will do anything for him. Please Jason, come home. We love you!