Grandma Henke

Baby Girl is here by me at the computer where we hang out together when the morning sun comes through the south window and she can coo and play with her toys here on my floor.    A little bit ago when she was fussing I  comforted her, changed her diaper, filled her tummy with warm milk and held her on my shoulder while we rocked and I sang her lullaby’s.     Now she’s playing contentedly on the floor, busily trying to put her toes in her mouth; happy as long as she can see me and hear my voice.    

Mother needed a lot of this same comfort during her last months on earth when she’d forgotten so many things, including how to control her body.   She needed around the clock care so we kept her clean and dry, and fed her, read to her, sang to her … held her hand.   Because she knew she’d forgotten what she’d once known she was frightened unless one of us was close by, but we were happy to return the favor for Mom, who had willingly given herself to us for over ninety years.

Whether it’s because of a physical crisis, or an emotional crisis, or just a long day at school, there are times for all of us when we need an extra dose of the physical comfort only another human being can provide … even if all we need is a warm cookie and a glass of milk.  It is important to our mental health that we know someone cares enough to be there.   It’s that security that makes us feel safe.

Baby Girl has now gone to sleep, now and then sucking on an imaginary nipple.     What a sweet little angelic being.      I wish it was that easy to comfort everyone else.

Technorati Tags: Comfort, Contentment, A shoulder to cry on, Dimentia