I sometimes call myself the TV, because I receive ‘feelings’ all the time. They are always associated with sight or smell.  The smell of garlic roasting in olive oil to me signifies home, because it was the most present smell on Sunday mornings when my dad cooked Sunday dinner.

Sometimes, not often, I feel peace in certain situations and people.  A situation that comes to mind is my 7pm ritual of sitting on my porch with my husband, having a cup of coffee.  I can hear the complex’s fountain whispering in the background, the birds chattering to each other ‘Day is Done, Day is Done”, dogs and children playing in their respective parks.

I feel peace watching snow fall, seeing fat bumblebees buzz among beautiful flowers, hearing rain drumming on a roof, and long ago watching my children sleeping as babies.  That gave me the most peace, watching their untainted minds drift in and out of a wonderful dream, their mouths making that suckling pout even when sleeping.

I find great peace in the sounds and smell of the ocean.  In fact, many years ago, when I was going through a particularly difficult time in my life I often would drive to the ocean and just sit.  That was where I found peace, and where I felt God.

The person I find the most peace with, nowadays,  isn’t a ‘religious’.   He’s just my husband. Perhaps I confuse the feeling of contentment and safety with peace, but with him my heart and mind are at peace.

Being a Roman Catholic I know I’m supposed to say I find peace in church, but I think God is everywhere.  When I feel God is present in a situation, as in babies, the ocean, nature, I feel a profound peace.

Recently, I had to give a speech at my best friends memorial service.  She died recently of breast cancer and we grew up together.  We had been friends for nearly 50 years.  I do not do well speaking in front of crowds.  I get classic cotton mouth. I stumble over words and get very, very nervous.  One would think a situation like the speech would be one I would be wringing my hands over, and I thought so too.  That morning, when I got up to speak I remembered her bravery. Her friendship, not the loss of it. But how lucky I was to have her as my friend, And peace came over me.  I gave a good speech that day, I never stumbled, never got my cotton-mouth, and I didn’t cry.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that peace and the feeling of peace is different for each of us, and we can make that peace happen, and sometimes it just comes over us.  It’s something we should try to remember when in a not so peaceful or peace-filled time.  Lord, make me a channel of your peace.

Doria Pizzotti is a long time friend. We share having older husbands on their second marriages and kids and grandkids about the same ages. Our families have celebrated many holidays together. When our girls were about eight, the Lowell Sun dubbed them the handmaidens of handwashing in a caption about Passover. Her husband’s question, “When do we eat” for Passover is legendary. As an ordination present she hand made a needlepoint kippah with an Israeli memorah and a peace dove on it. Many nights sitting around a table we have discussed peace.