Sometimes you just need your mother

Forget finding a mother duck, sometimes you just need your mother. I have several friends whose moms have died. I'm so glad I have my mom. I still have enough baggage with her to gauge which things I want to share with her when I'm feeling vulnerable, but more and more I'm rewarded for taking a chance and sharing.

Tonight she was just the person I needed to help me feel more spacious, seeing the bigger picture, feeling less alone. At first our conversation was just about the details of her next visit. I suggested she stay longer, subtext: "I'm lonely. I need you. Please come stay with me." Of course, she responded to what I said with the practicalities of the visit, and as she said the reasons she had to leave when she did, and continued talking about the details, I felt myself going into the self-imposed state of aloneness I can sometimes go into. I decided not to do that to myself. "I'm lonely." I told her.

Sometimes all you need is to reach out. Then we had one of those conversations that probably promted the phrase, "friendship is the sweetest balm," when someone says just what you need to hear and brings you to another place. She told me with warmth in her voice how much bounteousness I'd added to her life, and then sympathized with the longing I feel for a special person, saying she remembered being my age and feeling that. Thanks, mom.

My mom has found love, and now whenever I picture her, it is like she is in a little cottage in a village in the woods, with animals freinds hanging out in the house, and soup cooking in the background, and a loving husband just getting home, or reading the paper, or playing with the dog and petting the cat. "Our house is a very very very fine house..."