A Mom’s Comfort
No matter how old I get, I crave my mom’s comfort
When I first moved out of the house at 22, I moved all the way to a new province, and it’s a two-hour flight away.
At first, I loved the freedom, but that quickly flew out the window the first time I got sick away from home.
I felt so sorry for myself.
It was only the flu, but gosh — did I wish my mom was there to cuddle me, to bring me tea and to get my meds.
I had to do it all myself!
Suddenly, being an independent adult sucked.
I’m turning 38 this year, and I’m living with my mom again. My hubby, my son and I stay in the main house, and my mom stays in the attached apartment.
And I’m feeling blue. It’s one of those days that I’m sad and emotional, crying about all that could have been but wasn’t.
And the person I turn to is my mom.
And she just holds me and comforts me as I cry.
It is soothing beyond measure.
You can put no price on a mother’s love and comfort.
I hope I can provide that to my son throughout his whole life.
