Thanksgiving remembrance

One of my first memories of Thanksgiving is awaking to the smell of coffee brewing. I was pretty young when this became etched in my mind as a signal that it was Thanksgiving Day. We always celebrated Thanksgiving by hosting Mother's side of the family. Grandma and Grandpa Surber always came early on Thanksgiving morning ... and they made coffee. From where I slept under tons of heavy comforters upstairs in our farmhouse, the wonderful coffee aroma wafted its way up to our rooms. I never have acquired a taste for drinking coffee, but I love the smell of it, and every now and then, when I get really nostalgic, I think I can still smell that coffee.

I remember that the men went hunting early Thanksgiving morning and then came in for our Thanksgiving feast which was always on the table at noon. Grandma loved cooking for this day and for family reunions, and she would plan for a long time the things she'd make. Mother worked so hard to get things ready and did most of the cooking for the meal.

We put boards in the drop-leaf table to accommodate everyone, and that table stretched all the way across the kitchen with barely room to get things in and out of the oven or simply to move around. But, nobody minded because that's what Thanksgiving was all about.

As the years passed, we married and had children of our own, but we still somehow managed to squeeze everyone around that expanded table. The grandchildren eventually married and that added more people to the table, crowding the small kitchen area even more. It was clear that there were way more people than the house could comfortably accommodate. We needed to make other plans for future Thanksgivings.

For more than 50 years, we celebrated Thanksgiving at the farm. It used to be my favorite holiday. I loved the cooking part of it as much as what it stood for. In my opinion, what could be better than a holiday to celebrate family and fellowship and our blessings all while sitting around a table loaded with wonderful food! So, I began hosting the family Thanksgivings. I enjoyed doing that, until eventually each of us began having our own Thanksgiving dinners as our individual families expanded. Sadly, it was just never the same as when all of us crowded around the stretched-out kitchen table at the farm.

Now, this house, our childhood home, stands empty and unfurnished. I can barely think of it without choking back tears.

Last month Mother and Dad had an auction to sell remaining farm equipment, tools, and household goods. It was extremely hard to walk out of that house without thinking about the fact that it was the last time we'd all be together at the farm. With Mother and Dad in their late 80s it became inevitable that this big change would come and that it's all for the best ... but it still doesn't make it easy to accept.

Oh how I wish I could go back in time, just for one more Thanksgiving Day, to all the hustling and bustling in the farm kitchen with loved ones packed in around the table ... and to smell that Thanksgiving coffee perking!

October, 2014
Quite possibly the last time I will ever drive up this lane to my childhood home.