The Thanksgiving Challenge Post 13: Tapestries

This morning I'm thinking about family. Not just close by wrap your arms around family, but family long gone, but never forgotten. Once I was the fifth generation in the photo shoot of Great-Great Grand, Great Grand, Grand, Parent and child...now suddenly I've jumped to second spot coming just after father, then me, then Michael and Wallace, now Arianna. Family has always been a strong contender in affections and I've learned so much from my forebears. Quilting I learned about from a Great-Grandmother and Grandmother, Great Aunts and Mother...I can see the big purple and narrow pink and white striped quilt that they were working on the morning my older sister pushed me off the porch, opening a gash in my head that required clamps to close. They wrapped me in that not quite completed quilt to rush me off to Dr. Newsome's, he of the "do you want the apple or the nickel" fame. (The correct answer being the apple, then he'd give you both!) They didn't bother to take the pins out, either. Just wrapped and rolled and off we went. I have to say that the stinging little pains in arms and legs took my mind off the blood pouring down my face. My Great Grandmother, Little Granny Merriman, stern faced and knotted hair on the nape of her neck was yelling down the steps, "you didn't take the pins out, you're gonna kill that child! Try not to put her eye out!"

I used to love to watch my Grandmother roll her own cigarettes. She would open a can of Prince Albert, hold the paper deftly between two fingers, fill the channel with tobacco, lick one side and quickly close it around the sweet smelling blend, making a cylinder to hold the match to. Okay, I know it is a nasty habit, but back then no one knew how dangerous it could be , but to watch Mammy accomplish such a feat of magic...well, I was suitably impressed. Such dexterity of the fingers and hands she passed onto us that cats cradles and yoyoing came naturally. It's no wonder that stringing green tobacco onto sticks came so easily to us.

My Mother was a chef, pure and simple. There was nothing simple about her cooking and yet she made it look so easy that you wanted to try preparing every dish she ever mastered. Paula Deen and Julia Child had nothing on Mama. She could take the toughest of meats and give it the consistency of Fillet Mignon...and she could create Pavlova to rival the original. We all wanted to cook like her...sometimes we succeed. But not all her secrets were passed onto us. Most of the magic was in her soul and she took that with her when she left us.

Our families are a work of tapestry that can never be recreated. Each tapestry is unique to you, the added thread work that moves down the pattern will continue the thread of life that we are ever thankful for. So, for today I am most thankful for the Tapestry that is my family, with all its knots and silks...all it's mistakes and corrections. I thank them for the never completed work, that stitching that goes on and on into forever.