Feelings of Comfort

When Octamom wrote about feeling loved and cherished, it made me think of my own childhood and my life now with Hannah and her dad. The painting of my childhood is not as colorful nor as cheerful as hers, but there are memories I savor.

Of spending time with my grandmother whose love for fabric was woven into my layers, yet in the form of papers and fibers. Of playing Barbies with my sister, who may have been a little too old and definitely a little bored with the idea, but played anyway. Of the same sister slipping me extra money on Friday nights when I went to the skating rink, so I could eat or play games while I was there. Of drifting into other worlds and other people's lives through the books and stories I read as a child. That was a safe haven for me.

And while my childhood memories may have been fraught with more anxiety than comfort, I am blessed and I do feel loved and cherished now. And it's the simple acts that really wrap me up cozily in this feeling of comfort. Having my breakfast warm and ready as I walk out the door each morning for school. And the packed lunchbag tucked under my arm. I'm always delighted and surprised to see what my husband has chosen or prepared for me. Dinners created, flowers given, and those cards! Not much of a talker, my husband can write three or four words that are just perfect. Words that sum up his feelings in a way that would take me 100 or 200 words to do.

It's not even the actions that give me total comfort. It's just being here. In this home with this family of mine. It's lazy Saturdays when I can clean or create. It's the smell of dinner cooking or the fresh just-showered smell that lingers in the bathroom after one of us has showered. It's feeling safe even when alone. It's the comfort of our dog, Scout, as he curls up next to me... all 70 pounds! It's being snuggled up with Hannah while we look at magazines, read, or watch something on TV together. Or just talk. It's drinking a cup of hot chocolate and then dozing off to sleep and waking to find a warm afghan over me.

Sadly, my childhood is probably typical for many of the children I teach. For all those children who don't feel cherished and loved, there is hope and a prayer... that their lives will also be blessed and rich in abundant love.