Thursday, March 24, 2011

Little Comforts

I am drinking my coffee from my favorite mug this morning. If you opened up my {messy} cabinet to look over my small collection of coffee mugs, you would never pick my favorite on your own.

Your first guess, if you knew my very well, would be the Winnie the Pooh mug my dearest friend in the whole wide world sent me this year for my birthday. It says, "Friends stick with you until you're unstuck." Though I love it, that one's not my fave. I am not sure how many ounces it holds, but I have to have three of them to equal what I normally drink in one morning, and that just makes me feel like I have some sort of coffee issue.

Your second choice would probably be the real pretty one my mother gave me at Christmas in 2009, just after we discovered her cancer had returned. The words Love one another are beautifully scripted on it's side, and it sits up on a little pedestal in more of a tea cup style. It is one of my favorites to look at, but the rim of the mug is a little thick for drinking. So that disqualifies it as being my favorite.

My favorite happens to be a creamy-white mug with a red handle and a holly sprig on either side. Yes, it's a Christmas mug that I drink out of year round. I paid $2 for it about four years ago at Walmart when I was looking for inexpensive teacher's gifts. There are so many little details that make it my favorite. It happens to be the just-right thickness to keep my coffee the perfect temperature, holds just the right amount, and the coffee just tastes better in it. Is that possible? For coffee to taste better out of this mug than from that mug?

Don't get me wrong; I use all the mugs in my cupboard. But there are certain mornings I am drawn to that favorite. On mornings like this one when I am anxious and needing a warm hug, my $2 Christmas coffee cup provides a little fraction of that comfort. This might sound absurd, but it's my truth.

This morning, I find myself wanting to surround myself in comfort. I'd like to completely check out for the day, turn my brain off and flip the switch back on later today once the radiologists and oncologist have gone over my mother's scans and given the report. But, unfortunately, that's not the way life works. Wouldn't it be grand if we could transport our self to a comforting place? To that proverbial happy place in our minds? Most people say their happy place is tropical with warm breeze and the sound of ocean waves in the background. But, if I had to pick a happy place, it would be vastly different from most others.

Here's my happy place of comfort in my mind, a place I wish I could visit every now and then, but life situation and reality make it impossible...
I am lying in my parents' queen size bed in their master bedroom in our {old} house on Walbash Drive, two fluffy pillows under my head, covers up to my neck, warm and tight. My mom is lying on her side, her classic olive green Tupperware tumbler on the night stand beside her filled with ice water. Dateline or 20/20 or Primetime or something of the like is on. We are watching mindlessly, chatting and mulling over life effortlessly as we absorb the details of the story unfolding before us on the screen. We are physically comfortable and equally emotionally cozy. We can talk or not talk, and if we choose to say something, we don't have to worry about how it comes out or whether our opinion matches the other's.

That's the most comfortable place I've ever been. it may not make sense to anyone else out there, but it makes perfect sense to me. It's a place that doesn't even exist anymore ~ my parents moved from that home nearly seven years ago. But it's a set-up that existed long before we moved to that house on Walbash Drive. In fact, we did that in every house we lived in, and there were many over the years. And that's exactly where I'd go if I could check myself out for the day and go anywhere... but I can't.

So, where do I go today? Where do I transport myself while I am waiting and wondering and going through the motions of the day? I will look to the hills...

I lift up my eyes to the hills - where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot slip - he who watches over you will not slumber;
indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber or sleep.
The LORD watches over you - the LORD is your shade at your right hand;
the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.
The LORD will keep you from all harm - he will watch over your life;
the LORD will watch over your coming and going, both now and forevermore.
(Psalm 121)


4 comments:

Erika said...

Your mom will be in my prayers continuously throughout the day. (Next time, I'll just send you a bowl for your coffee. :) ) Love you!

connecting with the soul said...

your mom is also in my thoughts may God continue to bring comfort to you both. Your story of your safe place reminded me of my grandparents place , my grandparents had such a bed I needed the help of the two steps they had built to get into the bed, it was taller then me but once in it you never wanted to leave.

Kristin said...

Beautiful, Tamara. Still praying. Still hoping.

Rebecca said...

Praying for your mother and you both today!