I didn’t want this Thanksgiving to pass without comment. This year I feel especially blessed, or at least have had the time to recognize and note my blessings.
This year, as it turns out, I again was able to escape cooking the Thanksgiving dinner – something to be truly thankful for! When I finally determined that no one was relying on my hospitality this year, I promptly invited myself to the Berryman’s and booked a room at the nearest motel.
So, first thing Thanksgiving morning, Dave and I loaded up the car with our bags and a couple of side dishes and a pie and headed east to Suffolk for dinner with family.
Naturally our family meal didn’t look like the Norman Rockwell painting with the crisp white table cloth and perfect bird. And, thankfully, Nana and Poppa have managed to hang on to their youthful facades a bit better. But the essentials of family celebration were all there; warm fellowship, kids bouncing in kinetic anticipation and more food than rightly should be assembled in one kitchen at any given time unless you are raising a barn in your yard.
Before sitting down to eat, we gathered in a large circle in the family room and joined hands in prayer. Caleb offered a sincere and comprehensive prayer and asked for God’s blessing on us and our meal. Then, in traditional fashion, the children’s plates were filled first and they were installed at the “kid’s table” in the kitchen followed by the adults who retreated to the dining room.
From the dining room, where the silence of serious eating had set in, the giggles and hoots from the kitchen were often heard, reminding me of the years I spent at the “kids tables” at my grandmothers’ homes. In my teen years I resented my exile there, but last Thursday, I tried so had to put myself back in my full skirted cotton dress with the crinoline petticoat, white bobby socks and mary janes sitting at a wobbly card table with the companions of my youth; siblings, cousins, as well as younger aunts and uncles all exiled from grown-up company. Even though it seemed like torture at time, with the boys’ rude noises, the whining of some little one who wanted their mommy or the occasional glass of milk that tumbled over onto a plate or lap, it was nonetheless, as much a part of the Thanksgiving ritual as turkey and pumpkin pie.
Yes, I have so much to be thankful for this year but first and foremost, I am thankful for my family; old and new, past and present. Collectively they have given me more than I can even begin to express. For this, I offer a concise prayer of thanksgiving.