I’ve been thinking about Thanksgiving for the past few days. Many bloggers will be sharing their thoughts and memories over the next few days. I reckon I may as well toss my yarn into the basket and see what comes out.

Now, of course, you know that when we were wee things in school the Thanksgiving talk was all about the “pilgrims” and the Indians. Warm fuzzy stories about how the Indians saved the poor pilgrims, sharing their food with them. Everyone got along so well. Yep, just heartwarming like a Hallmark movie.

We all know better now. That tale didn’t come to life until sometime in the 1870s. I’m not focusing on that this time, though; just throwing it out there.

I was sharing a memory with Zeek (my greatest blessing in life) a few minutes ago about our big family Thanksgiving gatherings. Everyone showed up at my grandparent’s house. For a little background, you should know that my grandparents were as fertile as the fields that surrounded our house. Eleven kids they had and naturally they all married and had families. So, Thanksgiving, as well as every holiday, was a huge event. Women in the kitchen getting everything ready, Men out on the porch smoking cigarettes and telling lies, and young’uns running around like blind dogs in a meat house. Some of the menfolk had bottles in their hip pockets that they shared around ever so discreetly. So much joy and laughter filled the air!

All of my Aunties had their special dish they prepared every year. For instance, Aunt Mary Reynolds always cooked the ham. Oh, my lord that was some good pig! Tender, juicy, and flavored just exactly right. Mawmaw’s cornbread dressing was a work of art. Over on the washer and dryer, you could find cakes and sweet potato pies. Mawmaw and I always had a little dessert before we started eating. Life is just too uncertain not to have a sweet taste first!

I always started looking early for them to arrive because I knew that Uncle Walter would come rolling out of the car with a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken. Yes, Aunt Mary had her ham, but they always stopped in Jacksonville to load up on that delectable chicken.

I waited, somewhat impatiently, for the good reverend Uncle Wayne to finally say amen after blessing the food. My lord, he could go on and on when he was “talking to God”. I just wanted him to shut his pie hole so we could eat! Before he closed his lips I was reaching for a piece of that chicken!

You have to remember that folks didn’t eat at restaurants so much in those days. Food prepared in commercial kitchens was a rare and well-anticipated treat. So, I ran to the living room and sat on the hearth to slowly eat my chicken piece and savor each bite as if it were manna from heaven. Only after the bone was cleaned would I go back into the kitchen to “fix my plate” with green beans, mashed potatoes, and so many other dishes. A nice slab of ham and I was done.

I’m grateful for a million things, both tangible and intangible. But somehow just lately, I’m especially thankful for my big, beautiful, and gentle Uncle Walter and his bucket of fried chicken. He was a big man. As a logger he was all muscle and around six feet I reckon. His voice was soft and deep. I had a special relationship with him. He never failed to make me know how much he cared about me.

Many, many times I spent the weekend at their house with my cousins, Diane and Rhonda (Rundi to us) and on Sunday morning we all loaded up in the car to go to church. Uncle Walter would have three or four Swisher Sweet cigars in his shirt pocket in preparation for the afternoon when we got out of church. About halfway to the church, he’d start singing. I swear I don’t think he knew but one song. He’d start off and we’d all join in, smiling and laughing all the way through the song. Sometimes, he’d repeat it several times before deciding it was enough. I’ve no idea where the song came from, but here it is:

Well, I woulda went fishin’ but I got to thinking it over. That the road to the river was a mighty long way. Well, I’m a’takin’ it easy, it’s my lazy day!

We’ll talk about the other things I’m thankful for another time. Right now, I just want to remember him and smile.