Thanksgiving Rememberences

Every Thanksgiving that I can remember involved going to my grandmother's and then my mother's house(the same house) for dinner. I watched my grandfather at the head of the table, while I was at the far end (the children's table) and waited to move up. I moved a little as there were more cousins younger than me, and then my uncle took over the head of the table after my grandfathers death. The goal was always to get further up the table where the good conversation was held. I had gotten maybe almost half way when I had a child of my own. Since she was little it was decided by the "makers of the name tags" that I needed to sit near her to help her, and therefore I lost all the progess I had made and was back at the children's table. After three more kids and no movement up at all I finally ended up eating at the children's end and then moving my chair after I had eaten.
The other constant at Thanksgiving were the after dinner movies. The old movies started when my mother was dating and of course they were silent but it was always fun to see everyone when they were much younger and still had hair. The few good memories of my father I have are in those movies when he is waving at the camera and smiling. The movie projecter would come out right after dinner usually run by my brother, David and people would start ordering what film they wanted to see. Eventually the women would end up in the kitchen with dishes and the men would end up upstairs in the living room with cigarettes and cigars and the kids would continue to watch the old movies of their grandparents, parents, and of themselves. It was what we expected every Thanksgiving and it was a family tradition. I give thanks for all those Thanksgivings and all the people that were there and no longer are with us. Happy Thanksgiving, Mom, Bobsie, David, Hock, Gigi, Dad, Bampa and Aunt Ada.

Grandson at Fourteen

It seems unbelievable that fourteen years ago Tuesday my first grandchild was born. I was a young grandmother at 44 and loved every minute of it. (well, almost every minute) I remember being at my mother's birthday that day at my aunt's house. We were all there talking and singing happy birthday but I had a really hard time paying attention because I was thinking of how long my daughter had been in labor and wondering what was going on. I finally left the party and sure enough that is when the call came that Forrest Brewster had been born. He was the most beautiful baby I had seen for a very long time (since my last child had been born) and I say that with no predjudice. I have loved being a grandmother and seeing that little bundle grow up. Fourteen years old is when, in many societies a boy becomes a man and I could not be prouder of the young man he has become. Fourteen years has flown by and now he is taller than me. Happy Birthday to my first grandchild.