31. Thanksgiving 76′

Cold…very, very cold but not quite cold enough yet to see my breath as I poked my head out from under the blanket. We were living in the “big house” in Whitewater Kansas in 76′. It was the only house we ever lived in that was actually big enough to hold our family of eight. Four bedrooms, with two additional bedrooms made out off a large upstairs common area. My sister, Laura, the oldest girl and I made our rooms out of this space by hanging sheets. All of us kids had rooms upstairs by 76′, my youngest sisters moving up there that previous summer. It was a two story Victorian home right at about a century old. It would be the only home my parents ever tried to buy. They got a really good deal on it, or so it seemed. It had never had any renovations and little maintenance which meant it had no insulation and was termite infested. We didn’t care. It was huge compared to any house we had ever lived in. It contained some of my happiest memories of childhood. It was the longest I had ever lived in any house as Harley couldn’t stay put or wore out his welcome.

There was no heat upstairs. The only heat source in the house was a large gas furnace set into the floor between the living room and dinning room. Heat was expected to rise thru the stairwell and warm the entire upstairs…not! By January you could see your breath when you awoke. We would dash out of bed and down the stairs to straddle the heater. If you stepped on it, it would leave a waffle burn mark on your feet. The boys would straddle the center and the girls each took a corner.

This morning, I only delayed the dash for a few moments…the sun had not yet risen but I heard rustling in the kitchen below. I knew exactly what…who it was. I sat in the corner, sipping my coco, watching the two most meaningful women in my life go about the task at hand. Like a couple of dancers, each knowing their parts, they glide about.

I am in the moment, I feel everything, I feel comforted by the routine. I imagine what it would be like to always feel this way. I love my mom. I love my grandma…I am loved.

Grandpa and grandma always came to our house for Thanksgiving. These were Harley’s parents, the ones David and I lived with when we were very young. It was a respite from the chaos as Harley was usually on his best behavior when his mother was around. She was a wonderful grandma! We all loved her and enjoyed her company, competing for her attention…grandma, grandma, grandma…look at this, look at me, she was a blessing. She meant even more to me. A constant source of unconditional love. I never knew, she knew I wasn’t her biological grandson. I look back now and see how she, and mom, may have paid me a little extra attention given what they knew about my lineage and how poorly Harley treated me. At the very least, as long as she was there I wouldn’t get a beating.

But that was the furthest thing from my mind the previous afternoon as we ran to the car to greet them. There would be goodies to haul into the house. Pies & cookies…the best sugar cookies and oatmeal raisin ever made, a mince meat pie for Harley…yuck! LOL Everything is made from scratch. We surround the car and grandma gave us each something to carry for her…vegetables she had canned from her garden, gifts she had crocheted or sewn. This year my youngest sister, Debbie, was given the honor of carrying her purse…a magical bag in which all manner of treasures were contained. A button to play “Button, Button who’s got the Button”, a coin container that you squeezed to open, you know, like the ones they use to give away at the bank…magic. A small Golden Children’s book, “The Billy Goats Gruff”. Handkerchiefs, pen, needle and thread, a survival kit even Tom Hanks would have appreciated in Castaway. It smelled of Juicy Fruit gum and…grandma. We all love her so much.

Grandpa and grandma took mom and dad’s room and they took our youngest sisters room and they dispersed about the house., A big treat to get to sleep on the couch watching TV until you fell asleep..or it went of the air for the night.

Back in the day TV and radio would go off the air around midnight. There would be an image of the American flag on a pole, the Star Spangled Banner would play and then you had static (snow) or a test pattern. It would come back on the same way the next morning…like magic.

You can imagine the size of the bird required to feed this hoard. Mom and grandma were up, as was I this Thanksgiving, before the TV sign on, to get that turkey into the oven. Once that was set in motion, there was a houseful of mouths to be fed breakfast and then all the wonderful side-dishes would be assembled. I am pretty sure mom and grandam spent most the day in the kitchen, drinking coffee to keep their energy up and preparing our feast and then cleaning it all up. Over the next few hours their cooking filled the house…turkey, stuffing, potatoes, cranberries…the aroma of love.

Holiday traditions. We all huddled around the TV that morning, hot coco in one hand, a sugar cookie in the other, to watch the parade in New York City. We each waited for our favorite cartoon characters balloons to float by. It was magical. We knew every one of our friends were watching it at the same time. Like many holiday TV events back then, it was a shared community experience. Only played once a season, no DVR or VHS recorders. There was something special about that. I kind of miss that in the on demand world we now live in.

Eventually we would all be called to the table. Elbow to elbow we bowed our heads as grandpa gave the blessing. I get to sit next to grandma, holding her hand, that weathered hand that had so lovingly cared for me all these years. Cooking, cleaning, and comforting me. She squeezes my hand ever so gently, a secret communication between just the two of us. Its a Thanksgiving like any other, like so many before, but I sense something is changing. I am changing and I want to talk to her about it.. I am 13 and only just becoming aware of myself and a larger world around me. There is never time at these family gatherings, as we all want her attention, but I look forward to next summer when we would spend a couple of months together as we had since I was born. We could talk then like we always had. I spend as much time as possible with her. There’s always time…

Leftovers, a football game, much napping and a house filled with people I love. A fulfilling Thanksgiving.

They would stay with us until Sunday afternoon. After grandma had made her chicken and noodles. After we had worn her out. After we had poured our love into them. Then it was time for them to load up and head home. I hated this part. I still do. I see every goodbye as permanent. A loss that I can not bear. Mom comforts me. I am still this way. I have excepted this is who I am. Very attached to those I love and care about. Fearful of the loss of that connection. I cry but console myself as we will be going to see them at Christmas and then my brothers and I would be staying with them next summer.

That night as I lie in bed, the house cooling, the covers up around my neck, I think about the passed few days. For some unknown reason it all seems to mean so much more that it ever had before. Something within me has changed…awakened. I feel more deeply for the people in this house, my grandparents, than I ever had. If I could just hold onto this moment, if I could just hold off time.

I am ever so thankful that I can still recall these feelings, these images, these souls… this love. In my minds eye I see the faces of my brothers and sisters, so innocent and filled with wonder. Grandpa’s scowl, grandma’s smile, Mom’s reassuring touch…that big old cold house. What I wouldn’t give to be waking up, to the sounds of love below, in that big old cold house filled with people I love and always will. I will remember.

It is in the remembering that our loved ones remain immortal and timeless. Let your heart remember, let your innocence guide you, let it in and then let it out as your world, the world, will be better for it.

Happy Thanksgiving blessings to you all and to all that have moved on.

We’ve come to the time in the season
When family and friends gather near
To offer a prayer of Thanksgiving
For blessings we’ve known through the year
To join hands and thank the creator
And now when Thanksgiving is due
This year when I count my blessings
I’m thanking the Lord He made you
This year when I count my blessings
I’m thanking the Lord He made you

I’m grateful for the laughter of children
The sun and the wind and the rain
The color of blue in your sweet eyes
The sight of a high “ballin” train
The moon rise over a prairie
Old love that you’ve made new
This year when I count my blessings
I’m thanking the Lord He made you
This year when I count my blessings
I’m thanking the Lord He made you

And when the time comes to be going
It won’t be in sorrow and tear
I’ll kiss you goodbye and I’ll go on my way
Grateful for all of the years
I thank for all that you gave me
For teaching me what love can do
Thanksgiving day for the rest of my life
I’m thanking the Lord He made you
Thanksgiving day for the rest of my life
I’m thanking the Lord He made you