...looking back & giving thanks

the last Thanksgiving meal I shared with Mom...
was in 2006, at her "care facility"...
[it was to be our last meal together, but we didn't know it then...]
and it was, actually, a pretty decent meal...
especially when compared to the one in 2005...
which was inedible, to put it kindly...

but, our last "real Thanksgiving dinner"...
was at the ranch in 2003...
we had a Thanksgiving in 2004, but we weren't alone...
her caregiver was there, so things weren't "normal"...

ever since I returned from Chicago in 1978, & moved to Mudville...
I had been "home for Thanksgiving"...
and after Dad died in 1988, it was always, "just us"...
[a stray cousin might float through, but never for dinner...]

I'd arrive at the ranch, about 2 1/2 hours south of Mudville...
in the early afternoon, after a church service or just sleeping-in...

the drive south, through the areas of fruit trees & grapevines...
leaves turning, red, yellow & brown from the cool fall air...
glowing in the shafts of the bright sunlight that sought them out...
the sky, often a brilliant blue that was so much a contrast...
to the earth tones of all the dying foliage...

sometimes, it was foggy, raining or just overcast...
but those times tended to be later, at Christmas...
Thanksgiving was almost always bright...
as if the earth was celebrating her bounty...
and rejoicing in her coming sleep...

as I rolled off the road, crunching onto the gravel driveway,
so common to country homes...
I was always greeted by barking dogs and a persimmon tree...
heavy with deep red-orange globes, touched with black...
amidst the golden leaves dropping to the ground beneath...

the old red barn, the big trees, fading white out-buildings...
the sycamore trees dropping big brown leaves...
the fruitless Mulberry trees in the back yard...
carpeting the ground with their large yellowed leaves...
and the huge Australian Oaks, standing sentries to the west of the house...
they keep their leaves, all feathery, greenish silver & black...

a refuge for owls and numerous other birds...
shade in the summer, windbreak in the winter...
watered by irrigation ditches, they were huge...
planted by my grandfather in 1905, they were old...
when it rained, they had a pleasant, but pungent odor...

after parking my car, I'd gather up my bags and head through the gate...
past frolicking canines & occasional felines...
through the fallen leaves, up the steps and into the kitchen...
where the aromas of roasting turkey, simmering green beans & boiling potatoes...
mingled with herbs, cinnamon, onions & other good things...
in the warm, steamy air...

Mom would time her turkey so that I could lift it out for her...
and soon, the smells of stuffing being removed from the turkey...
joined the smell of gravy cooking, roasted yams & Brussels sprouts cooling...
and potatoes being mashed with butter & milk...

then it was time to eat...

Mom hated roasting a turkey when I was growing up...
[Dad was really picky about how it came out...]
but as she got older, & inherited Grandma's blue speckled, covered roaster...
it all came together for her...

her turkey was always moist, perfectly done, with nice crisp skin...
I even learned to like dark meat, it was so good...

Mom always enjoyed her turkey dinners...
[she'd do one at Christmas, too...]
and when the meal was done...the deconstruction began...
the bird would be completely cut up and parcelled out...

a bag for skin, knuckles, fat, giblets, neck & odd scraps[for the grandcats...]
a bag of sliced white meat, the wings & a bit of dark meat for me...
the legs, some white & dark meat for sandwiches & supper...
the carcass for soup...
and the rest cut up for the "frozen dinners" Mom made for herself...

I always spent the night in my old room...
[except for 2004, when I slept on Dad's porch...
because my old room had become the caregiver's room...]
the next morning, after a turkey sandwich on toast for breakfast...
I'd head back to Mudville with enough leftovers for several good meals...

in December, 2006, after Mom had left the ranch for good...
a wind-whipped fire totally destroyed the house and most of the trees...
leaving only the cement front, side & back steps...
amid a fallen chimney & some twisted pipes...

the house, built by my grandfather in 1907, was being renovated...
and all the fixtures, doors, windows, woodwork & trim had been removed...
the new owner planned to go ahead, with the now, new house...
built to use the old fixtures & trim pieces, but a "new" house...

Mom thought that it was God's work...
leveling the house to the ground like that...
that He didn't want anyone else to live in the house...
where she had been born in 1912, married in 1931...
and lived for over 90 years...

I didn't argue with her... it seemed "right" to her...
I know that God doesn't usually work like that...
but the thought gave her comfort, so I let it go...

I didn't know that in 6 weeks, she would be gone...
so I'm glad I let her have that "last word"...

so now, 3 years later, this year, I'm thankful...

that we had all those dinners together...
I miss her & her turkey... and the ranch...
but I'm thankful for it all... for all those years...

I'm also thankful for where God has put me on the Thanksgivings since...
and this year, as I wait for a job, I'm thankful to be where I am...

"come, ye thankful people, come...
raise the song of harvest home...
all is safely gathered in...
ere the winter storms begin...

God, our maker, doth provide...
for our wants to be supplied...
come, to God's own temple, come...
raise the song of harvest home..."

God is good, all the time...