I made cookies this afternoon and the scent of baking filled the house, like comfort vaporized.
And Celia wore a cozy hand-knit sweater, keeping her snug and warm and making me wish I had one just like it, maternity size... instead, I found comfort in an old fleece of Andy's and in stealing cuddles with Celia in her soft sweater.
And yesterday I spent the morning with old friends with whom I used to teach.
You know, the kind of friends who dish out the sort of compliments that deserve to be tucked away inside your brain for those inevitable insecure days. The friends who give you a hug that you can still feel later that day. The ones who share confidence in you enough to make you believe that you can do whatever needs to be done. Good friends. The kind I hope Celia makes someday. The kind who provide comfort when fresh cookies and warm sweaters are insufficient.