Messy, Unorganised Love

for all the greatness there is, in being organised, there is perhaps a much greater love evidenced in a single spontaneous act, done without question or discontentment, regret or annoyance.

an organised mum might be a mum not wishing a situation to be out of her assumed control.  a situation where she might fluster and fuss, and possibly, consequentially, sacrificing some edifice of her own comfort, or outward appearence.

in the turrential rain a less-organised mother gives up her coat and wraps it snuggly round her shivering child. there was no question at her own misfortune.

and, whilst her shoulders are taking the brunt of the storm, she allows the force of the turrential rain to take her on, and yet she shows no aggrievation.

it is surely true, and the evidence is clear, that a mothers lack of organisation for her (not so wet) child can assuredly be vindicated by her very own wet and drenched appearence.

and then you see her smile through the rain as she laughs at the situation.  and you wonder in the absolute necessity of being organised when its possible to allow a situation to bring a smile rather than a hidden grimace.

it is afterall, a life worth living, a life where each day is made up of moments to grasp, living each moment as if it were the last, because worrying about what wasnt done to prevent the need to sacrifice ones own comfort, whilst admonishing ones self for not being organised for what could have been done, can only be a waste of that tiny moment, because in that one moment, it might be better to smile into the rain, rather than hide behind an organised hood, or a tidy umbrella.

but, to not judge an organised mum, they deserve credit, where credit is due, for their premiditative thinking.

but credit and respect to the mother who smiles into the rain and arrives home sneezing as she catches the cold her child wont get.


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