I do not know who to give credit to for this collage. It was taken from Photobucket |
11/26/2013
Thanksgiving will soon be upon us. Walking this morning in our mobile home park, I met young people on bicycles. An unusual sight in our retirement village. And as I walked, I began to remember Thanksgiving’s past. My mind became a collage of memories much like the collection we often create with our photos on our computers. Memory overlapping memory.
My Aunt Opal , who lived with us, and I
sitting around the kitchen table breaking up old bread for stuffing as my
mother prepared the feast of the day. And then the memory of twin cousins
coming later to entertain us with the double trouble antics of two little boys.
That blends into the reflection of my own kitchen as my daughter and I work
together to set the table and get ready for our aunts and uncles. I can see my
children so clearly as they stomp in from the cold and snow to warm themselves
with snacks and perhaps a pinch of pie dough or a slice of turkey. My memory
collage is overshadowed by my more recent memories of our adult children and
our young grandchildren running in and out the back door of our farm home. I
can hear their grandpa shouting, “Shut that door.” as they run to the cookie
jar or the toy box. Our daughter and her family arriving in a flurry of coats
and shouts and hugs of greetings. The sweet smell of children and turkey
blending in my mind bring a lump
to my throat, but a prayer of thanks to my heart. And as recent as last night I
remember our four year old
great-granddaughter (via Facetime on our cell phone) proudly show us her sister
of four months and then dash to
plug in the Christmas tree they have just decorated so that we might see the
lights.
But
over all my collage I see the love of God
framing all my memories.
Our
God has blessed my life and my family in so many ways. Some I remember and
others I don’t, but always He has been there to protect us, guide us, and most
of all love us. And for all of
that I thank Him this Thanksgiving season.
wonderful memory and doesn't that memory upon memory build some flavor to life?
ReplyDeleteThis only started a mural of memories. And yes on the flavor.
ReplyDelete