My mother slid the cornbread dressing into the oven as my sister and I chopped vegetables and stirred pots. The turkey was almost done and we could hear the sounds of football and male conversation drifting in from the den as my Grandaddy, brother, husband and uncle attempted to stay out of the way. My petite and very proper, Southern Baptist grandmother was wearing her Sunday best and chatting with us as we prepared our Thanksgiving feast.
I took a moment to pause, mentally, and appreciate the beauty of what we were sharing. Three generations of women, gathered around the stove and giving thanks for all the blessings we enjoyed. I became a little teary as I realized my grandparents were getting older and one day, this crystal clear moment would fade to a hazy memory.
The channel changed in the next room and now instead of hearing Sports Center, we began overhearing Fox News reporters discussing President Bill Clinton’s recently discovered indiscretion.
“Mmm, it’s just shameful,” Momma said as she stirred the gravy.
My sister and I nodded in agreement as my grandmother said in her very Southern drawl, “I cain’t believe he had oral sex in the Oval Office. What is this world coming to?”
I lost consciousness after that, but awoke certain that this particular Thanksgiving would never fade into the recesses of my mind. And for that, I am thankful.
