|Thanks Footnote Maven.|
I have always loved Thanksgiving. When growing up, my mom, dad and I would make the 80 mile trip to Pawnee. The family would alter who had the meal. Sometimes it was my Aunt Dora, sometimes my Aunt Lynn, and sometimes my Uncle Ed. I loved especially when my Aunt Lillie came down from Kansas, because she made the best rolls. Those were wonderful family days. All the kids would go outside and play, sometimes getting hurt or in ant hills. (I remember my cousin stripping his pants off because he had stomped in an ant hill. Silly boy.) Unfortunately, there aren't any pictures from that time that shows how we enjoyed each other. I also remember there was always a table laden with food. Two kinds of potatoes, (sweet potatoes, and white potatoes), green beans seasoned with bacon, white and brown gravy, jello plain and with fruit, turkey, and oh my so many desserts. After dinner, the men would sit and visit about hunting, watch a TV, or snooze, while the women straightened up. All the older members of the family are gone. My mom is all that is left of that generation.
Her tradition was grabbing my children to watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade on television. My daughter told me even that is not the same. Today, my children are spread across the States, we occasionally may see one or two get together, but more often than not, they have Thanksgiving with their own family and lament that there isn't any family near.
|Me with my cousins at Thanksgiving.|