Sunday , 20 May 2018

Thanks for the Memories: Countdown to Thanksgiving #10

Thanksgiving is quickly approaching, and the TSB staff continues to peer into their memory banks and share a favorite memory of Thanksgivings past. This one is from TSB editor Steve Kirk:

Lost in the ’80s Again, By Steve Kirk

I close my eyes, I smile, and I’m there. A little den tucked away at the end of a hall inside Granny’s house on Avery Avenue in Huntsville, Ala. It’s Thanksgiving morning. My Grandaddy, my Dad, my brother and I are sitting in recliners, not a care in the world, and, of course, watching football on TV. (The Detroit Lions are losing again.)

The hustle-and-bustle of food preparation takes place a few rooms down the hall. A feast of turkey, ham, deviled eggs, pecan pie, you name it — was being prepared in the kitchen. I hear Granny laughing, I hear my Mom and Aunt Diane telling stories about growing up in Germany.

My cousin Jon and I go out to the front yard and toss a football around in the chilly, crisp, late fall air of North Alabama. The leaves are crunching all around us and occasionally we get a mouthful of them as we dive after errant throws. He’s Bob Griese of his beloved Dolphins; I’m Steve Bartkowski of the Falcons. Let the games commence.

But soon we’re called into the house. Ahhh, it’s much warmer in here. Jacket is off. Feast time. Eggnog is poured, bread is buttered. The small kitchen is a traffic jam of the human variety as plates are prepared. Smiles all around. Christmas plans bandied about. Friday sales discussed. Stories told, jokes offered. …

And I wake up.

I sit in Texas, three decades later, remembering so vividly, typing this and smiling. Man, how I’d give anything to give Granny a hug and talk to her one more time about our Atlanta Braves. I’d love to visit the wondrous enormity of Grandaddy’s workshop in the backyard and all of those tools that he used to make and fix everything known to mankind.

But that’s OK. That’s the beauty of life, the beauty of family, and the beauty of Thanksgiving. While family has to leave us eventually, their impact on our lives never does. This week, I offer a prayer of thanks for one of God’s greatest gifts to all of us. The gift of memory.

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