Like most, I remember specific moments from my childhood.  It’s strange, how certain selective moments got stuck in my memory.  I guess it’s just what seemed to matter most to me at that particular time.

I remember being at a friend’s house once when she got a small cut on her knee.  When we went inside, her mom spoke very softly to her and calmly cleaned the “booboo”, covering it with a bandaid and a kiss.

My mother had never done anything of the sort and I felt a pang of jealousy and hurt.  I even felt a bit of hostility towards my friend boiling up.  Why did she deserve affection from her mother when I didn’t?  Of course that’s not logical, but I was too young to rationalize such thoughts.  All I knew was my mother never seemed to care when I skinned my knees and always just brushed it off as an annoyance.

The memory stuck and, looking at it through a child’s eyes, I equated band-aids with love.  If someone cared enough to clean your booboo and put a bandaid on it, that was love.

If your mom has a plate of cookies waiting for you when you get home from school, or even a baggie of celery sticks, that’s love.

If your mom comes to pick you up from school on your birthday with a bouquet of balloons floating out of the sunroof, that’s love.

If your mom wants to hug you in public or tell you she loves you on the phone when you’re with your friends…you guessed it.  She really does love you.  Suck it up and swallow your embarrassment.  Those of us who never had that wish we did, even just a little bit.

Now that I’m a mom I embarrass my kids all the time in the name of love.  They will never doubt for a minute that they are the brightest stars in my heart.  And they will never, ever have a neglected knee.  🙂