Shaking Hands

a Thursday Theme entry

A warm blanket. A good book. An old movie. A big plate of country fried chicken and gravy. Sitting by the fire and watching the rain hit the window. Walking through the lunch room and seeing the lady making coffee and smelling her perfume and instantly thinking of Sunday school. These things bring comfort. A moment of ease. Contentment, if not happiness.

This is particularly appropriate this week as several of us are going through some extremely difficult circumstances. I wish I could make it better for you. I wish I could give you something more than words.

Comforting someone who is suffering is not easy. I suck at it, personally. Which is a difficult position to be in, as a parent. Child falls down, goes boom, I’m instantly enraged. My first reaction is not comfort, it’s anger. How did this happen? What went wrong? Did I do it? Did someone else cause this? Who can I blame/hit/chew out until I’m blue in the face?

It’s defensive. It’s selfish. It’s reactive. It’s not because I don’t care. I’m good at relaxing and having fun and playing with my kids. I’m not so good at picking them up after they fall, both literally and figuratively, and comforting them. I wish I was. My strength is probably in distraction. Hey, you’re hurt? Here’s something you love. Your doll. Some chocolate. Let’s sit on the couch and watch any show you want. Everything will be all right, you’ll see!

And it is, for a little while. But like a lot of wonderful things, it’s fleeting. It won’t last. The show ends. The ice cream melts. The fire goes out. Don’t get comfortable.

But we need those moments of ease. Put them together, they add up. The little rest stops help get you through the harder times. Your mind will take comfort in the places that you stopped, didn’t do anything, pushed your reset button. They are much better than the difficult times, the stuff you won’t care to dwell on for too long. It’s probably a defense mechanism to forget the bad and remember the good. And that brings me some comfort. Maybe not happiness, but that’s something not found in situational joys. That comes from something else, and finding it can be much harder than finding comfort.