Our family is in the midst of a major crisis. We don’t actually know whether it’s the “midst” or near the end, or if we’re only at the beginning. Though we can’t change the big event, I seek every opportunity to wrap myself in small comforts.
When I’m blue, bright sunshine does not cheer me up. I want blankets and soft cushions against a chilly breeze. Today the fog has stayed with us all day and that calls for all of these, plus hot coffee with lots of cream.
Yesterday, friends cooked brunch and we ate it on their deck in Sonoma County, surrounded by everything they’re growing – vegetables, fruit trees, flowers in all colors. Scrambled eggs and rolls and good conversation, with a view of green and lavender and roses and ripening pears and nectarines and apples and baby grapes on the vine, comfort in all colors.
Today a local radio station is playing Christmas music in July. Unexpectedly, I hear children’s voices singing “Silver Bells.”
No solace can be found in the big issue, so we pare down our expectations and find there’s no such thing as small comfort. Comfort is comforting in any size.
Ó Anita Garner 2010