Pam was big on hugging. Not in a weird way, but she did believe in hugging friends and family when they arrived, and always gave her kids a goodnight hug.

            “Mom?” Ben said, appearing in the doorway one afternoon while Pam was making dinner. “I’ve been thinking.”

            Pam turned around, noting the serious tone in her son’s voice. “What’s up?”

            “Well, I’m fifteen now, and…” he paused, trying to figure out how to continue. “Maybe I don’t need goodnight hugs anymore.”

            “Oh…” Pam said, surprised. “Okay. No more goodnight hugs, I guess.” Pam couldn’t help but be hurt by this. He’d long ago put an end to kisses, but the simple goodnight hug she’d never thought would be the next victim of the teenage years.

            That night, as son went upstairs to go get ready for bed, Pam stayed downstairs, feeling an odd sense of loss of the hug. She fought through it, calling up “Good night,” and settling back to watch the television.

            Fifteen minutes later, she heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and turned to look. Ben was there, looking sheepishly at her. “I guess one more hug wouldn’t hurt.”

            Pam was up in an instant, wrapping her arms around him. “Goodnight my sweet boy.”

            “Mom!” Ben said, rolling his eyes. But he still wrapped his arms around her a little tighter before letting go.