Comfort

This is an old family photo that is one of my favorites. This is me, at age 11, with my little sister, Whitney, at age 2. Whitney and I had a special bond. I am 10 years older than she is and mothered her in some very real ways. She would often want to cuddle like this on the couch and many times fall asleep like that. But the truth was, I sometimes asked her to come cuddle. When I was upset, feeling misunderstood, unhappy, disappointed, or sad, holding Whitney was like balm in a wound. Her sweet little baby self cuddled up against me soothed whatever I was feeling right away.

Today, at almost 34, I am feeling a need for comfort; it's just one of those days. My little Andrew will inevitably end up cuddling up with me at some point in the day, his big brown eyes full of the love that sometimes startles me in its intensity. "I love you so much I can't stand it, Mama," he'll say, and kiss me on the lips. And that will soothe the feelings inside me.

But today I'm also going to be consciously holding others I love in a kind of inner embrace. Even if I don't talk to them out loud or physically wrap my arms around them, I am going to hold them in my loving thoughts all through today. Whitney taught me how much the comfort of others comforts me, all those years ago on an ugly brown couch and I know that reaching out to those I love will make me feel held, as well.

So, dear ones, I'm wrapping my arms around you. I'm pulling you close. I'm whispering that I love you and pulling you even tighter still. I hope you can feel my love.