Thanksgiving Memory

imagesAs I think of Thanksgiving this year my mind starts to wander, as usual.

I’m thinking of all I have to prepare for this year’s feast… big word for dinner.

When my children were still at home, we would often make the long eight-hour trip to Iowa or four hours to Nebraska where my husband’s family lived. Either way, we knew there would be a wonderful meal and good times with family at the end of “Are we there yet…”

I’m missing my mom this year. It’s not that I was always with her or the family on Thanksgiving, but I knew she was a phone call away with that ever so comforting, and soft voice.

Really though, I want to give thanks for her. She taught me so many things, one of them being…how to cook.  And at this time of year, it comes in handy.

All of us remember those carry in meals from long ago… we knew just where to go for the best fried chicken or potato salad, and who made them. My mom was one of those whose dish was coveted, and devoured, leaving everyone wishing there had been more.

We didn’t have a fancy gourmet kitchen with marble counter tops, sub-zero refrigerators or state of the art ovens and stoves. No cutlery neatly arranged in a nice woodblock, no Emeril cookware, and certainly no Martha Stewart table decorations.

The turkey or whatever meat we were having, took center stage—rather centerpiece.

If we were lucky we had linoleum covered counter tops, a gas range, and frig that was never big enough for all that mom prepared.

Our screened-in back porch served as an extra cooler, where pies, salads and other perishable items stayed until… “ta da” it was show time!

We might have turkey, or something dad proudly bagged from the great, Iowa outdoors.

old photograps 007

Goose, pheasant, or duck might make an appearance. That was good too… but watch out for the buckshot—you just might lose a filling!

Regardless of what made it to the table, the aroma of that day is burned in my memory…from dad’s mud caked boots on the back porch, milk buckets waiting to be filled, cow stanchions and their occupants, rolling steam from potatoes boiling on the stove—all of it!

So as I prepare this year for family and friends, I give thanks for a mother that cared enough to teach me when it would have been easier to do it herself.

Mom with me 1946

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!


Images for Thanksgiving, google

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