For Those Dinner Evenings

Mom, I keep thinking about evenings at home when you and Greg were cooking dinner and the house just felt comfortable and settled. Nothing dramatic had to happen. It was enough to be there, safe and sound, with dinner coming together and life feeling steady.

I do not think I understood then how much that kind of atmosphere matters. Now I see that you helped make home feel like a place where I could rest, not just live. That is a rare kind of love, and I carry it with me more than I probably say.

I hope this Saturday has some comfort in it for you as you keep recovering. I love you, Mom.