A man from Motovun ended up in jail some ten days ago. Four years and six months, no less. In his late thirties, he was involved in some fraud I never really understood. As soon as I heard about his predicament, I felt like hugging his parents. Which is what I did the next day. First I hugged his father, who is in his early sixties, and then his mother, who is in her late fifties. I also hugged one of his two sisters, who is a few years his senior. Having done that, I left them practically without a word. When my beloved joined me yesterday, I told her this story. She could not understand it, though. Hugging? Why hugging? All I could tell her was that I had no idea where it came from and what it was good for. Still, all I needed to do was to hug the man’s parents. His sister happened to be with them when I came to see them. I felt good about it, and I assume they felt good about it, too. That was all I had to say on the subject. The next day, I still feel good about it. As it happens, it is Christmas. As I write, the bells of the church on the upper square are tolling.

Addendum (February 25, 2021)

This piece is about the Cotić family from Kanal in Motovun. The man who went to jail was Emanuel, known to all as Buco. Miljenko and Nada are his parents. To the best of my recollection, it was his sister Tamara who was with them at the time, but it could have been Ana, his other sister. On my hugging expedition, though, all I was concerned about was the wellbeing of Miljenko and Nada. They were uppermost in my mind, and I was eager to hug them with all my might. When Buco came out of jail a year or so ago, I also hugged him with feeling. The ordeal was over, and it was a joy to see the Cotić family reunited once again. But those hugs meant a great deal for me, as well. We were like one when we hugged without a word. Each and every word would only spoil our communion, I felt. To their credit, every member of the family also kept quiet when we hugged. Deep down, we all felt that words were not up to par with good old hugging. After all, communion goes all the way back to the animal kingdom that remains unspoilt by language. And unspoilt is the word, especially when a whole bunch of tangled emotions is concerned.