Letters to my Mother (Day 21) rest

My turn to be someone’s safe place

Dear Mom,

When I was little and afraid I would curl up in the softness of your faded flannel nightgowns. I remember resting my head on your warm lap that smelled like the safety of you.

You would rub my hair, sing “you are my sunshine” and all felt gauzy yellow, softly safe.

I’m exhausted and you’re gone. Life has been emotionally draining lately. So much life and no time to sort thought it all.

We have a father who loves us, loves me. This earth is his creation and I feel the warmth of his lap calling to me.

So tonight, that’s all I have to say. You taught me to curl up, to admit my smallness, to seek the only warmth that can truly restore.

We always refer to God as “He” but who can deny that there is a mother love, a safety that can only be equated with our mother’s lap.

Maybe a nap, a bath, an early bedtime? Grace, space, air.

I love you, I miss you,