Need A Mom

I have a boo boo.  I mentioned my fall that cut up my hands, two blogs ago.  I need a Mom.  Why? Well, I can clean my wound myself, but with a Mom I would get two things I cannot have alone.  First, I would get advice.  I used 70% alcohol content on my wounds and about passed out.  A Mom would have said, "Don't do that," and would have some other better and less painful salve.  Second, when I clean a wound I do it alone, with no Mom love, so the pain is FULL pain.  When a Mom cleans the wound, I can turn away from the nasty look of the wound and feel her loving touch.  Love lessens the pain.  Since my Mom is dead, I am in need of a local Mom to help me with my boo boo.  But there is a deeper lesson to learn here.  We all go through some pain from time to time and some of us, chronic pain.  The love of another helps make it more bearable.  We can give people our time, attention, listening ear, and even a comforting touch as needed.  One of the Moms at the dinner two nights ago, helped put the bandage on my wound and suggested how to clean it.  Everything felt better when she was there and helped.  I live with priests, men.  They can be functional.  It is not the same.