Thanksgiving Memories

Thanksgiving has passed. We had a small celebration this year with our son and his three sons. My daughter-in-law had taken the baby girl to visit her family in Wyoming. My heart goes out to families that are spread out so far apart. Her parents and grandparents had yet to meet this newest member of their family, so eagerly awaited the visit. In the meantime the boys stayed home to keep the Kentucky grandparents company through the holiday.

One of the highlights of Thanksgiving, even if you are small in number, is the remembrance of those who are no longer with us. The memories and tall tales flowed around the table with the gravy and the dressing. Everyone had a special memory to share, but it falls to us old ones to try to paint pictures of those relatives that they have only met in our stories.

My favorite characters are two lovely old men that were the highlight of any family gathering at my aunt's home. My aunt was a consummate hostess who loved having people in her home. Thanksgiving was especially fun because of the quiet blend of generations. We all gathered in her big dining room around the big table set with all the china, silver and crystal passed down through her family. Even the little ones were welcome at her table, although we knew even at an early age that remaining there meant we didn't make a mess or lots of noise. The sacrifice was worth it because of the entertainment.

A typical Thanksgiving would include her father, Grandaddy Pence, and her Uncle Earl. These two old gents came with spouses, but they didn't stand out in my young memory. Grandaddy Pence always carved the turkey. It was a show in itself, involving lots of knife sharpening, platters placed just so, and a turkey roasted to a crisp, golden brown. The result was a platter of perfect slices carved with lots of admiring comments from the waiting family. Uncle Earl kept the family entertained throughout the meal with a continuous supply of witty stories involving most of the family at one time or another.

After everyone was stuffed there was no rush to the television to watch football. We had television but I don't think football was the only thing on then. Instead we stayed at the table, after the last crumb of pie had been eaten, and had a story competition. It seemed everyone had a story to tell and each topped the story before it. We kids wouldn't think of leaving because through these stories we got to see a side of our elders that we never dreamed was possible. We heard stories of our grandparents in the grasp of young love. Stories of our parents as teenagers getting into scrapes and trying to hide it from their parents. Stories of kid's adventures in a time long past. Stories of our grandparents as they built their businesses and farms and the trials they faced. Stories of childhood illnesses, young deaths, haunted houses, missing relatives, and war heroes. It seemed that as the afternoon wore on the stories only got bigger and better. Who needed TVs, we had high drama in the dining room.

I'm afraid with the passing of these two lovely old gents with their twinkling eyes and gift for words the world lost some truly great story-tellers. Sometimes I think we need to spend more time talking and less time watching television. After all television is only a pale imitation of the drama of real life.