At it’s best, Thanksgiving is a time to celebrate family and love. It is also a time to remember and salute, those who are no longer with us, and on whose shoulders we stand. Today, I bow to my creative mom.
She was a poet, of sorts, with not much of a filter and was famous in our family for telling it like it was.
These are her words:
“Going to Granny’s on holiday’s 
Is not all it’s cracked up to be
Especially when Granny is me
The family descends and expects the most
Grandpa and I play the gracious host.
In spite that we’re tired as can be
I’ve been cooking and baking, making all they adore
The same as I did the year before
It’s what they expect, we agree
No golf for us, or tennis or bridge.
I’m busy instead at the stove and the fridge
And I really hate cooking, you see.
The house has gotten a polish and scour
I’ve over-worked my cleaning power
And I’ve a terrible pain in my knee
And just when I wonder about surviving,
The doorbell rings; they start arriving
Just like it was, when our children were small,
When sweaters and skates, they littered the hall
I look at my house; it is all in a mess
And I get a sense of true happiness
Then suddenly its over… they all go home
Grandpa and I are again alone
The house is quiet: no laughter, no tears
The silence is heavy. It rings in my ears
Wait, it’s the phone… an invitation to lunch
It rings again… Come to a Sunday brunch.
The best of both worlds, I’m sure you can see.
I never forget, how blessed are we.”
By Milli Kaminsky
May your holiday be happy, filled with good food… and with people who agree to put their differences, aside, in the spirit of all there is to celebrate.
Email Dr. Linda
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