Comfort comes in many shapes and sizes, colors and dispositions, interests and abilities.
Comfort means Mama.
Comfort helps us master life at every stage, from potty-training and tying shoelaces, to making friends and doing homework, through awkward growth spurts and leaving home. She can whip up a meal in a hurry, even if it’s take-out, and she doesn’t mind setting an extra place at the table for a friend. She knows just by looking at us when we’ve had a bad day or we’re coming down with a cold.
Comfort means Mother.
Comfort is almost always there when we want her and never too far away when we need her. She knows when to overlook our acting out, and when to put us hard in our place. She lets us be ourselves, whatever self we imagine us to be, and tells us we can be whatever it is we dream to be.
Comfort means Grandma.
Comfort stands in awe as the circle of life begins again, ready with advice, but silent until asked. We watch as she spoils and pampers, cuddles and corrects, babysits and opens her checkbook. Buy something the kids need, and keep a little something for yourself, she says. I know how hard it feels sometimes, she says. You’re doing great, she says.
Comfort means life itself.
Happy Mother’s Day to every mother.
This post is part of the Five Minute Friday writing project.
Head over there and read some of the other posts. And then, call your mother.