Comfort and Joy by Barbara Quinn

Tidings of Comfort and Joy. That line from the old Christmas carol, God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, has a lot to be said for it. This time of year has me reflecting on the meaning of those words.

I want to bring glad tidings of comfort and joy. How can I do that?

I can hug the ones I love. I like hugs. They tend to make me feel better, make me feel all warm and soft inside. Who can't benefit from a hug? I’m going to make a special effort to hug for a beat longer when I greet my friends and relatives this season.

I will try to notice people, really see them. What color are their eyes? The rush rush of the season makes it easy to try to get through a task instead of embracing it, makes it easy to not see a sales clerk, a soldier home on leave, a waitress, a cashier. I can easily wish them season's greetings, the best of the season, and mean it. Perhaps for an instant that will bring them joy.

Where do I find comfort? Certainly in the arms of my loved ones. Sometimes in a piece of rich dark chocolate. But I find it in many other places and it is out there ready and waiting for even the most desperate of us. I have found comfort in the words of a good book, in the touch of a friend, in the roof over my head, and the food on my table. I have found it in my belief that the future can hold goodness and light and that can carry me through the darkness.

I count myself lucky to have known the joy of comforting a small child, and of sharing good times with family and friends.

I am grateful for simple things that give me joy and peace such as for the fact that even after over 35 years my husband is my partner, and he is willing to be leaned on. Joy is that little lighthearted feeling that spreads through my chest, so fleeting but so real I want to grab it and hold it forever. But like dance, it must be experienced, and cannot be captured. It can be found in a job well done, in a smile well-sent, in a dance of the spirit.

May you comfort someone in need, and may you in turn be comforted when you are in need. May your joys be many. May you dance.

Comfort and joy. To you.

The Comfort Zone by Barbara Quinn

Spring is sprung. That means Easter is almost here. On Easter Sunday my son and daughter-in-law, nephew and his wife, niece, brother and sister-in-law, Mom (who is 87 and is treating us all to dinner), husband, and I will meet at a restaurant for dinner and catch up on each other’s lives. Then we’ll drive to my house for coffee and dessert. I’ve ordered a special grana, the wheat pie that is made for Easter, and lots of miniature cannoli, sfogliatelle, and éclairs, and even a couple of St. Joseph’s pastries because Easter is early enough that they are still around. We’ll break out the port and sambuca, heat the espresso, coffee, and tea, and spend more time discussing everything from politics to celebrities. It doesn’t get better than that.

I’m grateful to have people to gather with for the holidays. The celebration with family gives life a comforting rhythm. For a while we forget all the daily hassles and problems and enjoy each other’s company. These times together shore up my defenses. It’s good to know there are people I can count on to be there in times of sorrow and joy. This comfort of family has no price, cannot be bought, and is a worthy life goal.

The person who will be missed when we gather is my Dad. While he was alive he worked hard and took care of us. He invested wisely and left my Mom with enough funds that she is treating us all to dinner, “courtesy of dear old Dad.” I like to think he’s smiling and happy that he is still taking care of us now.

My heart goes out to all the families who would like to but cannot spend time together. Soldiers and their far apart families, people too ill to celebrate, the dying and the departed, those who have to work on that day to support their families, those who are too poor to make a special meal. Even though you are apart or in dire straits, family can still give you comfort. And that is what I wish for you. Comfort and peace, and a welcoming family when you finally do gather once again.