Tuesday, November 22, 2016

Thanksgiving 2016

Thanksgiving 2016

Thanksgiving is my holiday.  It was Thanksgiving when my dying mother sat up and had dinner with the family while we all cautiously put utensil to mouth in disbelief that she sat at the table and acted normal.   It was Thanksgiving when my brothers and I brought out families to the farm and wallowed in the comfort that it was there and we were who we are.  It was Thanksgiving when we hunted pheasants in the draws and loaded our shotguns with self made bullets.  It was Thanksgiving when we loaded our families onto a wagon, babies, mothers, grandmothers, and great grandmother, while my dad did his best with the tractor of, "over the river and through the woods...."   It was Thanksgiving when all the cousins sat around a galvanized tub and decobbed the corn for hours with conversation and pleasure.  It was Thanksgiving when my father borrowed animals from his farmer friend to make sure his "city" grand kids had the farm experience.  It was Thanksgiving when we accepted, in our own way, that there would be no more magical Thanksgivings of a family intact.  It was Thanksgiving when our mother died.  Almost, give a few days.  It was Thanksgiving when we knew how unbelievably blessed we were to have lived the lives we lived.

I'm getting in my truck and driving to my daughter's home because it's Thanksgiving.  I have memories to share and memories to make.  It's me now.  I'm the grandpa with the tractor albeit a grandma in a truck, but I'm the magic maker and I will do my part.

Thanksgiving.  Thank God for a day when we can reflect, remember and do our part.  

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