There was one life changing, lasting consequence to the "scare that backfired on me" (see next blog). Up until that point my nephew, Arnie, used to give me flying hugs. From the time he could walk to when he was 7 years old, anytime he saw me, he would take a run and go and fly into my arms and I would spin him around and around. It did not matter where we were, that flying hug was our special greeting.
The first time he saw me after I was hurt by the mob (he was in that mob). He ran to give me a flying hug and we both ended up in the floor. It took months and his feelings were tremendously hurt before he realized I was hurt and I could not give him our special hug anymore.
He also did not know how I got hurt because I expressly forbade Billy and Lisa to tell him that I got hurt Halloween night when he and the other kids attacked me. They were all too small to understand what had actually transpired that night and Arnie has always had a heart of gold. I knew he would not be able to bear the thought that he had something to do with my injury.
By the time I was well again, he was much too old for flying hugs.
I still miss them. Sometimes he still asks me if I remember them too.
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