Truth Be Told

This past weekend was race weekend.  That meant that Hubby vacated to the track most of the weekend, and I spent most of mine in my sewing room.  It also meant an over abundance of sappy Christmas movies!   It got me to thinking......that is your clue that, if you don't want to read my ramblings, now would be the best time to leave!

The question was brought to mind of what my favorite holiday is.  It is - hands down - Thanksgiving.  That's not what most (if any) people would say.  I'm unusual.  (I hear that a lot, and I'm okay with it!)  This holiday doesn't have bunnies, or fireworks, or flags, or costumes, or middle of the night gift givers, or even proposals and the promise of a night of sex. (Valentine's Day, by the way.)  Thanksgiving just gets lost.  It's under appreciated.

When I was a little girl, my family lived on a farm.  That meant that, come fall, the combine was brought out for a dusting off....those of you who understand what that entails know that means a LOT of dust.  It also meant afternoon trips to the fields with coffee and a sweet treat that my mother had baked in the wee hours of the morning.  One of my favorite memories is the oat harvest.  My father would hoist me up to the big wagon and let me dance among the oats.  I loved the feel of them between my bare toes, and I will always remember the smell of the oat bin at the barn. (My love of the oat bin faded a bit after my mother told me there were mice in there!)  The corn harvest wasn't nearly as exciting to me, because the corn cobs just got tossed into the bins, and they were just dried up hard ears - no fun at all.  I came to appreciate what Thanksgiving and Harvest really meant.  It's not just going to the grocery store and picking up frozen bread dough or already canned vegetables.  It means that God has blessed us with proper weather and bodies capable of hard work.....food on the table to last throughout a snowy, cold winter.  Thanks be to God!!

Thanksgiving was a day spent at my Aunt and Uncle's house.  They lived close to us and raised turkeys.  They had special contraptions that looked rather frightening to a little girl who knew a thing or two about how turkeys are ....ahem...."harvested" shall we say?  There was always lots of food (including smoked turkey - a meat I wish I had come to appreciate earlier in life!) and lots of family.  My mother came from a large family, and so there were lots of aunts, uncles, cousins, and well.....unknown cousins were there sometimes too.   We were happy to play games, laugh, and roast marshmallows on the fire provided outside. Until I became a grown-up, I never realized how tiny their 2 bedroom home was.  I have a suspicion that the fire was provided to give some "space" when needed!  Even after my Aunt and Uncle moved into the city (and I use that term loosely), the Thanksgiving tradition held on in the bigger two story house that we still filled to the brim.

When my Aunt and Uncle passed and our own family unit started growing, my mother would prepare Thanksgiving dinner complete with the china, crystal, and polished silver. (Don't forget the pickled herring!) The table expanded as far as it could go for the adults, and a card table set up for the children's table within touching distance.  More often than not, my mother sat with the children.  We could sit around the table for hours, and even after the dishes were cleared, we would continue sitting around the table playing games, telling stories, harassing each other unmercifully, and laughing a lot.  My Mom and Dad hated for us to leave because the house became so silent after we all departed.  Hubby's parents lived within walking distance those days.  It was easy for the boys to go back and forth and in-between whenever the mood struck.  Hubby and I would go over in the afternoon to watch football, and expand our waistlines with homemade fudge and pie with LOTS of Cool Whip.

The years have brought change to our Thanksgiving.  After Mom could no longer cook, Hubby's mother had dinner catered and invited my parents and brother's family to join them.  It was a grand gesture on her part as cooking is really not "her thing", but I will forever be thankful for those few years together.  By this time our family had moved far away, and our time together too precious.

Once again time marched on, and these days Thanksgiving is spent in a truck stop.  It is a far cry from the Thanksgivings of old, but it is time spent together which I cherish.  It is a place where the food may not be grand, and the environment lacks the china and silver, but it is also a place where a proud old Swede can provide for the family he loves so much.  Hubby's family join us along with my mother's sister - an Aunt that I have always held close to my heart.  We are still together.....thanking God for what he has provided.

Yes, Thanksgiving gets lost in the in-between.  I get lost in Thanksgiving.  I can give thanks to God for leading Moses to the Promised Land, and for God sending His Son to pay my debt for eternity.  I can give thanks for the pilgrim's courage to journey to a land where most people thought they faced certain death (and many of them did.)  I can thank God for this country, where even in it's miriade of faults, still allows me to write these words uncensored and you to read them.  I can thank God for my family - old, new, growing, changing.  I can thank God for roof over my head and the food on my table.  I can thank God for the air that I breathe.
Thanksgiving is definitely my favorite holiday.

Gratitude for:  Well...........Everything!!