Sheets pulled straight
From the bottom to the top
In the pillows
In the covers
Layers and layers of
Love
Enfolded
In the gentle goodnight hug
Of a bed made
By a Mother
*our youngest son is home for a week. We raised independent little buggers – they left home as soon as they were able
He is between houses
Signs a new lease on Friday
Four nights at home
Lovely
I convinced myself when they left
That this is what success as a parent looks like
Independent
Brave
Confident young men
But God I missed them so much at first
Anyway
I was making his bed yesterday in preparation for the visit, and as I went about the task I was filled with so many
Memories of the boy he was
Admiration for the man he had become
So much love
As I smoothed and patted bedding into place
I realised perhaps this – this love and attention and focus
Is what made my bed – when Mum made it up for me to come and stay
So very
Very
Comfortable.
It probably was
My Mother did everything with love
And you could feel it.
I miss her.
It’s a wonderful thing to climb into a bed that a Mother has made.
If you still can sometimes
Appreciate it
