#73 - Turkey-day

There are several days a year when Americans do the similar or the same thing. Today is one of those days. In my family I can remember this day being pretty much the same since I was a little girl and my gramma would get up early on turkey-day, get the bird in the oven  super early then start prepping all the sides, or as they were known in our house, the fixins.  Yea, it was a southern thing.

Remembering those days brings a warm feeling to my soul and a smile to my heart.  My gramma, what a classy lady she was, full of life and spunk, beautiful yet humble, sweet as can be but stern when needed.  She was everything I wanted to be when I grew up. 

As the only real role model I had since my own mother was, well that's another story, my gramma gave me the strength I needed to endure pretty much anything. I can remember many dinners at her house, many times I helped her prepping for those meals and cleaning up after. I can remember watching her make pies and other yummies and hoping that some day I could do them just as good as she did.  Getting elbow deep in flour and making messes while trying to help but learning as much as I could.  Those were the days I want to hold onto from my childhood.

That spunky lady even went on after divorcing my grandfather in her 50s to go back to school, something he would not allow her to do when they were married, and get her nursing degree and go on to be a nurse.  She taught me to never give up on your dream.  Never let them see you cry.  Never expose your weak points.  Never ever let a man stop you from doing and being what you want. Always make sure your children come first in everything you do but do not let finishing that task be the end of it all.  Go on and continue living, continue gropwing, and never stop having fun. 

I still remember a photo of her whitewater rafting in her late 50s.  She did live.  Even remarrying later in life to a fabulous gentleman who treated her like the queen she was.  She was able to enjoy her life, have her cake and eat it too, so to speak.  Raising 4 children and surviving the early years of an abusive relationship then going on to become who she really wanted to be. 

Sitting here writing this, I am realizing for the first time just how much our lives mirrored each other.  I am just hoping that I have made her proud.  I hope that I am as strong as she was, have the courage she did to continue to push and push til I get to sit down and eat my cake.  I must thank her for all she gave me, for teaching me to never give up, to just survive until it's time to thrive, then go forward and conquer. 

So now that my bird is in the oven and I prepare to make the pies and all the sides, I feel a presence here with me, standing beside me as I prepare the meal I will share with my family.  I wonder how many other little girls are up helping their grammas make the feast we will all share today on this American holiday when we all do pretty much the same thing.

Happy Turkeyday.