November 26, 2015

a memory: thanksgiving


This picture always reminds me of Thanksgiving, and it shows a true memory of my grandma without having to show her face. 

Thanksgiving morning 2011, my grandma making crusts for three pies: cherry, pumpkin, and lemon meringue. Her rolling out pie crusts, made from scratch from a very worn, falling apart at the seams cookbook from her mother. There is flour everywhere: on the kitchen counter, on the floor, all over her sweatshirt, on the dog. I remember running into my room and grabbing my camera, not wanting to let any of this real life stuff slip by. 

Little did we all know, 2011 was the last year my grandma made pie crusts for Thanksgiving dessert. She officially handed over the reins to my mom who promised she'd do her best and she watched on the next Thanksgiving while my mom took over the process she had done for the last 45 years. 

This is our first Thanksgiving without her. Grandma won't be there sitting in the big picture window in the living room, a 7&7 in hand asking when dinner is ready. She won't wave me away with my camera whenever I try to take her picture. She won't say grace before dinner and she won't pile the brown sugar on top of her squash (a habit I seemed to inherit from her). She won't be there to yell at the football game with my mom. She won't fall asleep in her recliner when her food coma hits.

This is our first Thanksgiving without her and I am so thankful for my memories. I'm thankful for the time I got to spend with my grandma. I'm thankful for photography and all the little moments like this one that I will hold inside my heart forever. I'm thankful for Magic, and for gratitude because it's always the little things that turn into big ones, and those are the ones that matter the most. 

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