Happy Thanksgiving

I have so much to be thankful for. I live in a big, beautiful house with modern conviences, food, heat, a dishwasher, and clothes washer, etc. My car works, my husband works... I even have a job of sorts. I have a DVD player, a satellite dish, and my precious computer. All these things I have... and for all these things I am extremely grateful. I express my gratitude often and vocally- but with all this, what I'm most thankful for is my family. Past and present. I am grateful for every awesome member on my family tree, and I love, admire and respect every single one.

When I think of Thanksgiving, it is these dear people who immediately come to mind.  My Gramma and Grampa Perrin lived on a farm in Coldwater, Michigan. Every November, my family would pile in our car, dog included, and drive the 4 hrs. to my grandparents house. When we turned onto Willowbrook Lane, my father would say, "Thuma? I think we're lost!"  My mother would look worried. "oh dear! Well, maybe we should pull into this house and ask for directions? It looks like a nice house!" and sure enough, it would turn out to be the very best house! Gramma and Grampa's house!  And often as not, they'd be standing together in the doorway, waiting for us. (Which proves I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed. I fell for the same ruse year after year. :)

All the Aunts, Uncles, cousins and their dogs would soon arrive- sometimes 32 of  us! to spend the long weekend in the old, white farmhouse (which had only one bathroom!).  I can close my eyes and see every inch of that house from the mud room/laundry room, to the parlor, to the upstairs bedrooms. I can hear the beloved voices, the football game, the clatter of dishes, the barking of dogs.  I can smell the turkeys baking, the date cookies, Gramma's special mix she called Nuts and Bolts, and my father's pipe tobacco. 

There were often 3 tables set up for Thanksgiving dinner. The big table in the dining room was for the adults. The children's table was often in the living room. My sister Sherry was usually relegated to the children's table to keep us in line. The table in the parlor was for anyone who didn't fall into either of the other categories. Teenagers, unmarrieds, etc. 

Here's a pic of the children's table the year I was born (1957) My sister Sherry is standing, and next to her is my cousin, Bonnie. In front of Sherry is my cousin, Jimmy, to his right is my sister, Marcy, then, my sister Candi, next to her is cousin Jo-Anne, cousin, Bobby, and cousin Ronnie.

This was taken in 1973- I'm standing in the back row next to my Aunt June, my cousin Bobby, my mother, and my Uncle Bob. Sitting in front of me is my father, then, Gramma, Grampa, and my cousin Jimmy.

Every aspect of Thanksgiving dinner was a wonderful chaos.  Gramma ALWAYS cried when she said Grace. Grampa ALWAYS fed the dog under the table. Someone was always running out to the kitchen to refill some dish or other. Taking orders for dessert was an experience. There would be pumpkin pie, mincemeat pie, cherry pie, and Gramma's plum pudding. If it seemed as though not enough people were opting for Gramma's plum pudding, the wives would nudge their husbands, and look at them, pointedly, until they changed their order... which would start the entire process over again... but then, not enough people were taking the mincement.... etc. My Uncle Chuck loved to tease. I remember my mother asking him if he wanted his coffee now. He politely declined, and waited until she'd poured all the coffees, served them and sat down before saying, "Now. I'd like some coffee NOW."  :)  

My sister wrote this poem summing up the experience perfectly-

To Gramma and Grampa by Candi Thanksgiving Day has come again. The family gathers round For cookies by the dozens and hot coffee by the pound. And squeezing in another room where one chair might be found. The dishes in the sink make a steady growing heap. And Gram you're everywhere at once, and Gramp, you're sound asleep. And hugging close to the TV set are football fans knee deep. We used to find it hard to keep a straight face on that day, The time so full of fun and noise, the table spread so gay, That when the grown-ups bowed their heads, we giggled while they'd pray. You don't know what you have until you lose it, and that's true. And though I'm very thankful for this life and all that's new I only wish I could be there to bow my head with you.

 

 And so, my family's Thanksgivings are patterned after the ones of my childhood. Today I baked two pies, homemade rolls, and made my own cranberry sauce. And while I was making Gramma's Nuts and Bolts, I could feel her in the kitchen with me. Yes, Gramma. I am using your recipe. I wouldn't even consider not doing it! So much of who you were, and what you did has stuck with me all these years. I cannot thank you enough.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!