What makes you smile?

That's the next "Guided Journal" topic. I like that one. As they have added up, in my inbox, btw, I realized that I cannot possibly do one a day--you may have noticed that already, dear reader, but some of us are slower on the up-take than others. So, I'm letting them remain in my inbox until the time when I can get over here to post something. I rather like having a "Guided" journal for now, as sometimes, frankly, I'm VERY happy to have some thing to think about that's NOT been rattling around in my wee brain already for far too long. Like PTSD, OCD, depression, youthful angst, teenagers adn littler ones, and men. Yeah, something OTHER than those things is a good thing to think about.
So, today's topic, (b/c I said so) is what makes me smile. Well, for the sake of timeliness, I'll just give you the first thing that comes to mind. Simple, yes, but as "creature comforts" go, (anyone know WHERE that phrase came from and what EXACTLY it means?)this is the closest to me, now:

My cat, Lacey. She makes me smile almost every day. For a single parent that struggles with the emotional ups and downs of myself and my somewhat-damaged yet BRAVE and STRONG children, on top of the usual challenges of life in this 2009 America, that's an enormous thing to me. Whether it's the unusual case of my waking up to her laying against my back hard enough to actually FEEL her(being almost an albino is why they tell me her skin is quite sensitive and she's really not much of a "toucher"); or the fact that ever since my knee accident over 3 years ago, she's been within a foot or so of me ALMOST every minute that I'm home--but-please-don't-pet-me-so-much-thank-you-very-much-I-love-you-that's-enough-thanks--just being there, I adore her and she is the cause of much smiling for me these days. It took over 6 months of us having her, before Lacey would let us see her out in the open, for more than a couple of minutes a day. The first week I swear to you that I thought she'd somehow escaped or magically disappeared SEVERAL times, before I found out that her favorite hiding place was right behind the stove. Then there was the period where every time anyone attempted to touch her, she'd do this thing like a caterpillar with her back, so it was JUST under the hand as it swept down the length of her body--"please don't touch me, thanks". It was kind of comical, b/c she was SO adept at keeping centimeters away. Thankfully I was working at the Animal Clinic when she came to live with us, and I heard there about all-white critters being especially sensitive to the touch, and I understood not to take it personally. And, as it is with most everyone who has been hurt or traumatized before, as she learned that she would not be abused here, and that she would be accepted as she was, and loved and cared for, she came around eventually. I'll never forget when Mom made a remark about "If I had a cat that I never saw/wouldn't let me pet it, I'd get rid of it!" Which I can understand, because I (guess) know that Mom has never been deeply traumatized. I say "deeply" only due to Lacey's actions subsequently, of course. Just callin' it likes I sees it. IF there are no coincidences, like I've been taught and come to believe, then I'm pretty sure Lacey came to help me and hopefully my children learn a little more about the power of loving patience in healing a wounded heart. I was willing to let Lacey have the time she needed to come out and learn to trust me, and now she's laying next to me, a curled up little ball of all-white fluff. And she even purrs-LOUDLY-for me now! That makes me smile inside and outside. Lots.