It has always fascinated me how nurturing little girls are. Playing at being mothers is a skill nobody teaches them, they simply have it. Then they lose that skill about age ten or eleven, or shortly before puberty, and take a dozen years to get it back. Nature is a strange, mysterious, wonderful thing. It teaches us skills we don’t know we have, lets us forget them, to eventually relearn them anew. I wonder if, when the second lesson comes, we learn it as well as nature taught us first time around?
As for men? Well I’m fifty-six and only {re-}learning to be nurturing now. That lesson feels familiar, somehow.