365 days, a journey to find joy in every day!

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Today my family celebrated Thanksgiving Day.  True, there seemed to be more preparation for dinner than there was dinner.  And we had a huge dinner, so you can imagine the amount of preparation.  I started baking pies yesterday, and last night I put the turkey in the oven to roast slowly overnight.  I was up at the crack of dawn, to drive the food over to my son’s home for the dinner.  Then my daughter-in-law, Amy and I cooked MORE food, and set up tables, and seating.  It was a good time for us to bond. 

I was amazed by her kitchen!  More appliances than anyone I know, and they nearly work themselves.  A stove that does everything but the shopping and the serving.  I kept saying, “I want one of these” to every appliance she had.  I was more than impressed with her gadgets.  And then I watched as she set the table.  Tablecloths, neatly spread, napkins and placemats and her best silverware, and for a time, I was taken back to my child hood, and watching Grandmother Linn prepare the Thanksgiving dinner. 

Grandmother Linn was one of those exacting people, who had rigid standards to follow for anything that anyone could imagine.  She was religious about her table and the food she served.  She was passionately obstinate when it came to change in that area or most any area.  Grandad called her stubborn.  She provided the optional moniker of passionately obstinate. It meant that she had a reason for being stubborn and opposed to change, and that everyone should know that she was right about it and stop trying to change things.

But I wish she could see Amy’s kitchen!  I know she would marvel at things that most of us take for granted, like a dishwasher or a stove with a timer, or even a stove that had a built in thermostat.  The most luxurious thing she ever had was a refrigerator, and that was truly just an over-glorified icebox.  She cooked on a coal/wood cook stove that had to be regulated by poking it from time to time and feeding it, as if it was some sort of creature from a horror flick.  How she turned out the most perfect Lemon Meringue pies, and never burned a thing, I have no clue.  But she did, and then once the table was set, she would bow her head and peek out at Grandad and say, “Charles, say grace.” 

At once, when the prayer was done, the chatter would start; we shared stories and swapped lies, which made my grandmother fan herself.  Nothing risqué mind you, but I was told once or twice that liars get struck by lightning, and I needed to mind my tongue. 

We passed food under the table that we didn’t want to eat, like the turnips and radishes, and kicked each other while the adults told their own stories and “Tall Tales.”

Today, once we actually sat down, I watched the entire thing unfold once again.  Grandmother, Grandad and Mama are long past, my brothers are out of state, but here, right before my eyes was a tale that has stood the test of time.  Noah getting yelled at by his dad for kicking the table, when all along it was Stephanie.  Nathan trying to work his way around the green beans.  Josiah firmly taking a stance resistant to anything not akin to desert.  My dad, swapping tales with my high-school friend, Bob.  My sons, daughter, and daughters in law laughing at things that happened on past Thanksgivings. 

The same, and yet different.  I will always miss the ones I loved who have gone on.  But as I watched the family gathering and the same dynamics evolving that were there when I was a child, I knew that there is something solid to my family.  The things that Grandmother and Grandad taught me were the same things that were taught to them. Although I cannot set a table to spite myself, Amy has many of those qualities that Grandmother had, minus the feistiness.  The little brothers still do those childlike things; the older brothers still trade stories.  I just watched. 

As we bowed our heads to pray, I remember so many prayers from before, but today’s is special, because it is for now.  Thanks to God for His graciousness and mercy for us.  Thanks for the provision of family, food and friends.  Joy in our hearts as we shared a meal and memories, and built yet more to come.