ThanksGiving Memories

You know you are getting older when you can sit back and remember ThanksGivings past.  No this is not like the Ghost of Christmas Past full of regrets.  These memories bring a Mona Lisa type smile to my face.  Wonderful times out in the country.

I remember drawing and cutting out turkeys made with the outline of an outstretched hand on construction paper when I was in Primary School.  I remember lessons about the first ThanksGiving in Grammar School that included why we have ThanksGiving to begin with.  I remember learning about relicious freedom and trials and tribulations….that caused people to come to the New World.  But that is not what this is about.

When we were kids, we would congregate at my grandparents house which was a little more than two miles away from ours.  ThanksGiving morning would dawn with the wonderful smells of food being prepared to take over.  Pumpkin pies would have already been made…cakes and other types of pies would also have been prepared.  But, the main food of the day….turkey, dressing, and various vegetables would be on or in the stove cooking and bubbling away.  It was wonderful to wake up to all the various scents emanating from the kitchen. 

I would climb out of bed (never sure why they use that phrase climb out of bed….but sure it is for a reason) and walk sleepy eyed down the hall to see what was going on in the kitchen.  My mom and my grandmother would be busily stirring, chopping, basting, and chatting about the day.  The aroma from the food would be mouth watering…I could hardly wait to dig in to the wonderful food prepared with love.

I really don’t remember what breakfast would entail on those days.  I do know that the TV would be tuned to the channel to watch the ThanksGiving days parades…we like Macy’s because of all the balloons, etc. 

Some ThanksGivings the weather would be cold and clear, some would be cold and cloudy, some would be warm and sunny, or warm and cloudy….One never knows, in the deep South what the weather will be.  Regardless, we were always anticipating who we would see at my other grandparents house.  There would always be a gathering of Great Aunts and Uncles, Aunts and Uncles and cousins of all ages.  Mostly the cousins were older than we were, my mom being one of the younger siblings of seven.

I could hardly wait for the car to be loaded with us and the food to travel the short couple of miles to Mama (pronounced with short a like in math) and Pops.  We were usually the first to arrive.  Not to be outdone, Mama would have wounderful aromas emanating from her kitchen too.  Usually sweet potato caserole, macaroni and cheese, rice…etc  (You cannot have a dinner with my family without it being heavy on the starches!)

Soon, other members of the tribe would start showing up.  All would bring in a dish or two from their own homes.  The food would be arranged on the counter and over the kitchen table.  We kids would be running in and out of the house stealing the occasional bite of what ever we could get our little hands on.  Cookies, celery sticks, a bite of turkey skin, a piece of ham….it all went down as quickly as it was offered.

The adults would congregate in three places, kitchen, livingroom and porch (if the weather allowed).  Some of the men would walk in the woods with a gun or two between them…while the final preparations were made.  Then….we would all be called to the livingroom to hold hands and say the blessing.  Pop almost always gave the blessing.  Some time Uncle Paul would be called upon.  Never a woman….wonder why?  Anyway, I can remember when I was really young, it seemed like that blessing went on for ever!  After the Amen, we would all line up to fill our plates with the most wonderful food I had ever eaten….

After the main mean….the cleaning up started.  People sat around appetite sated for the time being.  We were never a family that had dessert right along with the meal.  There was always a lull before the desserts would hit the table.  During that lull, I would usually get one of my family members to tell stories about their youth.  Or, if I were lucky, I could get Uncle Henry to tell us some ghost stories.  I would sit and listen as long as they would talk. 

Then, after a respectable length of time, it was time for dessert.  Cakes, pies, cookies, etc….would come out from the back porch.  The table would be laden with all sorts of wonderful desserts.  My favorite by far was the pumpkin pie with coconut cake running second.  Others went straight from the pecan pie…

When evening drew close, family members would start packing up to go to their various homes.  We always shared food from each others homes.  Why take home what you brough?  Get something from one of the other family members….  Hugs and kisses were passed around. 

As I got older, I was allowed into the kitchen (or drafted) to help with the clean up between dinner and dessert and then after dessert when all the food was finally cleared away.  Those were sweet times too.  Women talk differently when they are working together in the kitchen…They really do.  Confidences, old family secrets and other things were discussed.  Hands in dishwater, others drying dishes… 

Sweet, sweet memories.

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