Five Minute Friday: Comfort

Write for five minutes, uninhibited, no editing, no do-overs. Just write, just right, right from the heart. You can do it! It only takes five minutes. Click the button above to play along and prepare to have your heart tugged and blessed.


Comfort I can smell the dressing cooking as we pull into the driveway. Granny's coming out onto the porch to greet us with a "Y'all get out and come on in." It's Thanksgiving again and she makes the best Thanksgiving Day dinner that I've ever had. I look forward to it; I crave it. It is tradition and I know its coming and it brings comfort, this sameness in my chaotic childhood.

There's no arguing over where we're going for Thanksgiving; I know. We're going to Granny's house. We're going to stuff ourselves silly with turkey, dressing, giblet gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans, sliced tomatoes, pie, pineapple-coconut cake and banana pudding. Can't forget that banana pudding. I lived for it. I could have eaten it all were it not for having to share it with everybody else. Daddy made it, too, though his wasn't quite the same as Granny's, especially the year he substituted beets for the bananas. That was certainly an experience.

Granny's gone and Daddy's gone and these memories of Thanksgiving at Granny's bring me comfort. They bring tears, too, because I can never go back...except in my heart and soul. Banana pudding will never be the same.

I can hear Granny calling to us as we're leaving, "Do you have to go so soon? Come back and see Granny sometime. Love yins!" and feel her gripping me in that granny-hug that I'll cherish forever.