Thanksgiving Memories

I recall in second grade when my teacher (Mrs. Courson) taught us the song "Over the river and through the woods to Grandfather's house we go......". I (at the time) actually thought someone had written the song about our trips to my Grandparents' house. I knew it (the song) described my feelings about going there.

One of my favorite times of the year to visit was always Thanksgiving. I remember going down the long open hallway to the kitchen and flinging open the door, looking for Granny and Grandpa. At this time of year, it was chilly enough for them to keep a roaring fire going in the fireplace. After hugs and greetings, I would run to the fireplace and back up to the warmth of it. After warming my backside, I would turn around and warm up my face and hands. Then I would investigate the wonderful smells emanating from the stove and oven. Let me see, now.... ahhh yes! There was turkey and dressing, chicken and dumplings, sweet potatoes, giblet gravy, baked ham, and potato salad. Let's have a look at the pie safe over in the corner. There is pumpkin pie, pecan pie, lemon pie, coconut pie, chocolate cake, huckleberry cake (Grandpa called it  "flycake"  ...  ewwww!), and carrot cake. But to me, the piece de resistance was the Fruit Salad. Granny didn't make a little container of it. She made a large dishpan sized container of it, with lots of oranges, apples, bananas, and pineapple (I think she bought the fruit from the local FFA club). We would eat it and eat it until our stomachs hurt.

The children would all go outside and play “hide and seek”, “ freeze tag”, and so many other games.  I remember how the frosty air would sting our faces until we had rosy cheeks and noses to match. We would run back into the kitchen and warm up by the fireplace for a few minutes, then it was back outside for more fun with the cousins. The screen door to the kitchen made so much noise as we would run in or out, I am sure (in retrospect) that it had to be annoying to the adult members of our families, but they bore up quite well, considering.

There is so much more I wish I could access from my memory banks, but it escapes me, at present. What I can recall though, is the joy in my childish heart when we made the visit each year.

There was so much to be thankful for: a gathering of  uncles, aunts, cousins, grandparents and others: wonderfully delicious food: family stories recounted yet again: lots of energetic play among the children: and maybe the most important of all, a sense of heritage and the continuity of tradition (it still lives on in my memory).

What a gift to my life it was!