This morning I thought of Bill Wither's Grandma's Hands.
Soothed a local unwed mother
Used to ache sometimes and swell
Used to lift her face and tell her,
She'd say "Baby, Grandma understands
That you really love that man
Put yourself in Jesus hands"
Which led me to think about my grandmother: Claire Elaine Flowers
My grandmother's hands are long gone from my eyes, yet remain in my senses attached to memories in whiffs of her powdered skin.
Dainty, smooth and petite; they'd handled a lifetime.
Whenever my soul was storming
her voice r
of this world.
It was Claire that told me to ride it out because this too, shall pass.
She was a woman of few words, but she positioned a soft, understanding space for me to rest my worries.