Monday, December 8, 2008

Scratched Knees and Love Letters

"It's funny. This, uh... This necklace reminds me of this really random memory of my mother. I was a little kid, and I was cryin' for one reason or another. And, she was just like, you know, cradling me and rocking me back and forth. I can remember seeing the little balls in this thing just floating back and forth. And, uh... And there was just, like, snot dripping down my nose, right? And, uh... She gave me her sleeve... and she told me to blow my nose into it. And I remember thinking, even as a little kid, like... 'Wow.. This is love.. This is love.'" (-Garden State; Written, Directed, and starred Zach Braff. Filmed in 2006)

The other day at church, in one of his sermons my dad was talking about comfort. describes the word comfort as to soothe, or reassure; relief in affliction; consolation. It's really too bad that the American culture has reduced the word comfort to that overstuffed, overflowing with cushion, tan sort-of-suade material lounge chair. The word comfort to us means sitting down on a huge sofa and watching tv.. But that's not comfort at all!
During my dad's sermon, he told a story about me. (Of course I can't tell it to you as well as he did, but I will try my best..)
It was the day our family left England, and I was four at the time. While we left church, we walked away from our village, all waving their hands goodbye. Everyone was crying, including us. As we came home, I was running to the house, and my four year old legs tripped and i scraped my knees on the gravel.
Turning around to look at my godmother, a stoutly and well fed woman, I stared with tear filled eyes, and I just ran to her. She took me up with her loving arms and held me as I cried, and she cried too, knowing that I was leaving so soon.

Gosh, even writing that story makes me cry. Not completely of sadness, because unfortunately my godmother died a few years ago, but of knowing that this woman loved me so much, that now when I think of comfort, I think of her. She was my first true memory of comfort and love. Her birthday was on Christmas day, so even though I am ecstatic about the holiday season, it makes me sad to know that my family can't call her after opening our Christmas presents to wish her a happy birthday and happy Christmas.
A few months back, my dad walks into my room and says, "I just found this...It was in on my
dresser.." It was a letter, and he didn't remember when it was from, I'm guessing just a few years back."You are all the world to me. You still brighten my life and I love you very much. All my love, Nellie."
Every time I read it, I cry. It makes me feel so loved, even now that she is gone. Her shaky writing from her arthritis, and the fact that she put in 20 US dollars for me.. I will never throw this letter away and I will always look back on it to remind myself of what comfort really is, and the love Nellie had for me. I still can't get myself to spend the money, or even put it in my wallet. That $20 has stayed with the letter.

This was like the hardest blog to post ever, and I've written it in pieces over the past week because it's been really emotional. It's really hard to find a person that you can truly find home with.. That was my godmother. I know I have found my comfort in other people, and I have found home in other places, this was just my first memory of it... And it will be in my heart forever.
Last week my friend Miles reminded me of a song I heard sooo long ago, and he and I have been listening to it a lot recently. So this blog is dedicated to the one I love, my dear godmother. Rest in peace. I love you forever.


Moorea Seal said...

uhg... sister. make me cry. a good sweet cry but still, a big cry.

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