And there is him, right in the middle, wearing his thankful shirt. Small and funny and questioning and helping. Feet on the counter, criss-cross applesauce. Aren't the greatest blessings unplanned?
My gratitude list continues . . .
a day for thanks, noticable and knowing
a daddy feeling better
angie dickinson's legs
his laughter, sweet to his girls
passing of plates
careful conversation to soothe her sweet hurting soul
the frying smell of turkey
deviled eggs, with and without pickles
the candying of potatoes
the mashing of potatoes
homemade smell of bread baking
mama's dressing, her and Delia side by side
chocolate pecan, potato, and carrot cake
cream in the corn
daddy's giving of thanks
both my ma's dishes, their hands that held
the talk and tears of those missed and so loved
the hopes of next year's day and no one far
My list, #'s 425-446.