THANKSGIVING AS THE YEARS GO BY

This may become one of the most interesting THANKSGIVING and Christmas holiday seasons to date.

THANKSGIVING

1964

(Musings of a Homemaker – Houghton Lake Resorter newspaper)

“Get that thing out of here and don’t you ever bring a snake into the house again!” 

Turning from  the kitchen sink just as my young son proudly showed me the snake he had captured in a jar.

I shouted.

It was the fall of  1964.  I had three young boys under the age of seven and dirty laundry in the laundry room. Now I was being confronted with a snake in a jar.

Reality was here to stay.

 

Our countryside is beautiful today.

The joy of living in this wonderful place never changes for me.

Snow covered fields have not yet arrived.

Even so, the pleasant anticipation of their coming is a given

during this precious season of THANKSGIVING in northern Michigan.

There will be no time for me to fix turkey and pumpkin pie this year.

With my three boys to keep an eye on, laundry to do, and dishes always in the sink,

where would I find the time?

As is often the case,

Mother and Dad will rescue me.

They will calm our appetites with an invitation to a bountiful table at their peaceful home.

The joy of the annual THANKSGIVING family gathering

fills us with good food, a pleasant time and memories of being together.

My greeting card list has not reached the length it will be in the future.

I’m trusting that some of our friends,

who send cards to fill our mailbox,

will understand when they don’t find one from us in theirs.

Each year it warms our hearts to reach out to friends and family.

Little boys in need of attention at unexpected times,

assure the notes will be short.

The printed verse on the card must say it all.

Mother always had her Christmas greeting cards prepared to send

the day after THANKSGIVING.

I’m sure she remembered to prepare them

when pressing family matters used her time too.

I can assure you,

 there were no snakes in jars at the home of my parents

during the growing up years of my sister and me.

The two of us did not consider such creatures pleasurable.

 Mother was ever faithful with her early holiday greeting.

She enjoyed the notoriety of being the first greeting  to be received by family and friends.

A portion of THANKSGIVING day was spent composing her handwritten notes

expressing love and best wishes for the coming year.

Time will tell if Mother’s traditions fall to me as the years go by.

* * *

New Memories

“2017”

This may become one of the most interesting THANKSGIVING and Christmas holiday seasons to date.

Married sixty-two years in 2017, my husband, at the age of eighty-seven,

 passed on to his next life in the month of February.

Two of our little boys are now grown men.

Our middle child died four years ago.

The experiences of all our lives

have taken a very different turn.

The joy of grandchildren and the arrival of two great-granddaughters,

Willow and Eva,

 has filled my heart to overflowing.

At the age of eighty-three, 

it may be a bit too much for me to entertain the entire extended family

here at the farm for THANKSGIVING and Christmas holidays.

Looking at it in a different way,

it will become a memory in the making for some of the younger folks

to host pleasant family occasions.

There is a large electric cooker in the cupboard.

 Recipes for pumpkin pie,

handed down from generations past,

 lie inside the recipe box

which once belonged to my Grandma.

Four packages of pumpkin pie filling wait patiently in the freezer,

  prepared last year by my husband, from real pumpkins.

 Canning and freezing foods for the winter from the garden

was always part of his helpful preparation for winter.

I’ve been thinking about putting up the Christmas tree.
 How could I fail to do that?
 This precious season is all about memories, families and

the welcoming of the Christ Child,

no matter the changes the years will surely bring.

It really is the season for living and loving.

Those things will never change.

copyright©2019

Photographs By Mary Anne Tuck

memoriesaremadefromthis.com

A MOMENT IN TIME

I began to think of the way we are linked together
 through His creation. The markings of the geese are specific,
  always the same for a particular breed.

 

AT THE END OF THE DAY

Looking Back

1995-2019

 
 

While enjoying the END OF THE DAY during a late August evening
 on our porch swing,
 The readily identifiable sounds of approaching geese
 could be heard.

 

The maple trees in our front yard formed a thick canopy over the place where we sat.We could hear the geese, yet couldn’t see them clearly.

 One glimpse through the leaves,
  told us there were five.

 

The farm has twenty acres, eight of which are hay fields. Geese often headed toward the fields at the end of the day, during late summer, to feed and to rest before starting their journey south for the winter.

As the five flew over our yard, 
a fluffy white feather floated quietly to the ground.

 What were the chances that a tiny feather
 could find its way
 through those thick leafy trees,
 coming to rest on the grass before us?

I began to think of the way we are linked together
 through His creation. The markings of the geese are specific,
  always the same for a particular breed.

 

Our family has now lived on this old farm 
for 60 years.
 This was an August evening, the END OF THE DAY,
 when my husband and I decided to rest 
on the porch swing 
to enjoy the quiet of the evening.

 

Just then,
 our Maker placed us together
 with other creatures of His creation.

 He is the One
 who all the oceans placed,
 set the world in space 
and created us.

 On this late summer evening, 
He chose to join His creations together 
for a special moment in time.

A coincidence? Perhaps…

* * * *

 

Winging low across the evening sky,

with necks outstretched,

the five in line responded to imprinted flight

formed countless centuries ago. 

A canopy of leaves formed overhead,

blocking them from view.

Gliding lower, wings now set,

the five flew toward feeding fields at dusk. 

How quickly they had come into our solitude,

then disappeared into the evening shadows. 

Now out of sight, ghostly silhouettes,

markings meticulously ordained when time began.

A snow white feather drifted slowly to the ground. 

Now cradled in the grass, 

The evening dew its bed. 

Binding our lives with theirs, 

All, now ever changed.

The great creative plan of One

who set the world in space,

the oceans placed, species defined,

now paused with us for a moment in time. 

We were one with Him.

It was the END OF THE DAY.

copyright©2019
 
Photographs By Mary Anne Tuck
 

memoriesaremadefromthis.com