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The Thanksgiving Dance

 The combination of fall and the Thanksgiving Holiday brings a flood of memories. From my front porch, I sit and look at the old homeplace otherwise known as "Granny's house." It sits, quiet and dark, with old vines that have begun to cover the porch. 



The leaves that drift from the trees have begun to carpet the yard and make the driveway disappear. The wild lemon tree with fuzzy lemons and long, sharp thorns that once stood at the end of the front walk has long been gone. The lemons were inedible, the thorns were sharp, and the tree was ugly, but for some reason, it was special to me.

Thanksgiving, at Granny's house, was a special time with a table full of food and lots of family. Of course, that wasn't much different than any Sunday meal. Granny's house was the family gathering spot for her children, grandchildren, and extended family. My memories are special about those days of long ago.

As the years passed, grandchildren grew up and married, and families began to have their own holiday celebrations. Our family was no different, and that's how this story got its name.

Bob and I worked together to prepare a Thanksgiving meal for our family. The meats (turkey and spiral cut ham) were his forte, as was baking the cornbread the night before to have it ready for the dressing on Thanksgiving Day. He also made the ambrosia and helped with mixing the dressing and carving the meats afterward.

We worked around each other, and we worked together. When I look back and remember all he did, he's missed more than ever—on holidays.

Daughter Robbie and I were sitting on the front porch, enjoying the warm sunshine, and the breeze was causing the falling leaves to drift.

"I don't know what to write about this week," I lamented. I wrote an article each week for my local newspaper.

"Mom, write about the Thanksgiving Dance," she replied.

"Thanksgiving Dance?" I questioned.

"Mom, watching you and dad in the kitchen at Thanksgiving was like watching a couple dancing. You moved around, in perfect rhythm—never getting in the way of each other. Each of you knew exactly what to do, and when."

Then she added, "None of us know how to do the Thanksgiving Dance."

Happy Thanksgiving to each of you, and I hope that you have your own Thanksgiving Dance!

(Posted each year, at Thanksgiving. The old house was torn down in 2018.)



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