This is Comfort

I begin to imagine

Your home

The drive was far and long

It is dark

When I arrive

The smell of West Texas

Air

Fills my lungs

You greet me

Flat feet, zip-up robe

You waited up

To embrace me

Each time, the same

Your consistency

As dependable as the prayers and biscuits, sausage, eggs

And coffee

You offered

Through the years

I still feel your prayers

When I find your notes

Around my home

Inside of canisters

Behind photos

Once yours

Now mine

I saw you as a small person

You are not small at all

You were a giant

Of faith

I look down at my wide wrists

I see you

I am grateful for my sturdy frame

I see you

I approach the middle

Lines appear in new places

My face

I see you

I remember when I was a little girl you told me you picked cotton

I replied: That sounds fun!

It wasn't fun you said

I trust God

I hear you

Talk to God you said

He listens

This is comfort.

This is Comfort was written by Emily Turner about her paternal grandmother and originally published in Retreat House Spirituality Center’s House of Comfort book. You can purchase here.