Once upon a time there was a family who celebrated Thanksgiving on a farm. So many family members attended that two tables were needed to sit everyone. There was so much food, two tables were need to hold it all. One of the seats was a church pew. There was much talking and laughter. There were bumping elbows and food stolen off plates. There was always one dish getting passed the wrong direction. Through the years we ranged in age from newborn to grandparents.
After a hearty meal, the table cleared off and the dishes cleaned and put away, there would be football and parade watching on TV. They would doze in and out of tryptophan comas.
Well rested, the boys would gather in the front yard for some pigskin tossing and tackling. “Down 42! Blue! HUT HUT HUT!” Just like they were a Pittsburgh Steeler or a Dallas Cowboy. On warmer occasions, the girls would participate and it would become a family game of two hand touch .
Today, while the table remains, not as many gather around it this Thanksgiving. My grandfather, having passed away many years ago, no longer steals food from my mother. My brother and his family are now in South Korea. I and my family are now in Canada. My cousins are scattered up and down the east coast from Florida to Maryland. Some are travelling the world. There is no more football in the front yard.
The times have changed and nothing seems as it was in the “good old days”. Our gratitude, however, remains healthy and constant. Forever are we thankful for those days together. Thankful we could share a table with so much family, with so much love. Differences were set aside for a few hours of food and fun. Quarrels were ignored in the spirit of the holiday.
The newborns are now great grandchildren. Grandparents now outnumber children. Blessings outnumber worries. And we’ll celebrate American Thanksgiving here.
Happy Thanksgiving…
Love this. It reminds me of how it ‘used to be’ with my family too- until the kids all grew up and started their own traditions, or it just got harder and harder for everyone to traverse the country to get to the same spot at the same time.
Those days are over, but the memories of the little green house we used to gather in won’t ever go away, and we get to make brand new ones, ourselves becoming the parents and grandparents we saw stealing food and passing plates in the wrong direction when we were little.
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It’s also nice to hear that those who are able to make it still do. We still have the memories of what it used it be. Though it may never be like that again, we do have our own traditions with our own families now. These will be the memories of how our kids remember the holidays.
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Oh my goodness. I don’t know what to say except that you brought back so many memories of Thanksgiving when I was a child. Thank you. xoxoxo
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I had so many memories running through my head. Glad I could conjure up a few for you, too. You’re welcome 🙂
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Fantastic post, Eric
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Thanks a million!
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