Home is where I first learned about caring. My mother (that’s us holding hands, above) was one of the most attentive, caring moms I can imagine. Her body was our safe place when we were little, and didn’t feel well. My mom still gives the best hugs.
Now that I’m grown up, I care for myself. I look after my own body inside my home. I care for the walls and floors that give shape to my space, and I care for the creatures that live with me.
In my home, I tend to my soul needs, and my soul hungers. I cook my own food. I fill myself with care until the caring begins to overflow… and then I care for others.
This is a photo of my mom washing my dad’s feet. I learned caring from my dad, too. Especially after my brother died.
Who cares in your home? And who teaches caring – passing it on to future generations?