I remember as a kid……
When I would hear this from my dad, I would slip away in to a comforting place filled with sunshine and the scent of lilacs bushes. Bright sunshine, bluest of blue skies, the creak and slam of the ole’ screen door, and the feel of grass under my feet.
Then as his story pulls me in……
I’m deep in the woods, looking at my dad as a young boy. Snow is so brilliantly white as the sun hits it and the shine nearly blinds me. I am right beside him as he races home with rabbits freshly shot and stuffed in his coat. Our breath is nearly freezing in the air before us, and our cheeks are a deep crimson red. We can barely feel our toes. We come through the trees and see the farm house, the barn, and the chicken house.
Back when I was young, I can recall many Thanksgiving days where the ground was already covered deep in snow…….
When we rush through the door, my Grandma Brown has the table gloriously filled to overflowing with meat from the farm, homemade dishes prepared with ingredients from their land, saved just for this day! The biggest turkey, on the biggest platter, in the middle of the biggest table, I have ever seen in my life.
I can still picture Sis and Bud,my nephew Jimmy, Mom and Pop Duncan, Aunt Dunc, and Mom and Dad already sitting at the table laughing and talking all at once…….
We wash our hands and realize they are so cold, the water even though icy, feels burning hot. My dad slides in to his chair. I realize I’m still standing, frozen to my spot. I haven’t met some of these relatives. They left this earth before I was born. As this scene begins to fade, so does his young voice, the laughter, and the beautiful fragrant smells. I smile and give thanks for those words, I remember as a kid……and a memory of a 1940’s Indiana Farm Family Thanksgiving.