Ode to Thanksgiving and rememberance...

Turkey he's a great big fella.
Fruit's all ripe, soft and mella.
And all the things that's good to eat.
Much more than I can now repeat, that's Thanksgiving.

This was a little poem/rhyme that my great grandmother Emma would say on Thanksgiving many times during the day, every year without fail. It's one of the things about her that lives in me. This is the time of the year when she produced a feast for her family. For better or worse, you were welcome in her house and at her table.

When I was young, she and I parted ways on bad terms and I don't think that we ever really mended the relationship but I loved her, and she loved her family (me included).  I will forever be grateful for this life that she helped shape. The lessons of hard work and a strong work ethic.

It has been several years since her passing, she'd be in her 100's now. I wonder if she'd still know or remember me.

For my great grandmother, my grandmother and my stepmother...
Happy Thanksgiving Everyone.