With A Grateful Heart

November 2002 was the last time my grandma was responsible for making the Thanksgiving dinner.

When I was younger, my grandpa was responsible for the daily meals at their home. However, it was up to my grandma to prepare Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter dinners. Most of the time it was only my mom, my uncle, my grandparents and myself at dinner. My grandma insisted we’d eat at 2 p.m. I never really understood why we had our big celebratory meal in the middle of the day.

When my grandpa passed away in 1994, the responsibility to feed herself fell on my grandma. She wasn’t much for cooking outside of holidays. However, she continued to create large meals for us to consume at 2 p.m. SHARP every year.

In 2002, Jason and I went over there for another Thanksgiving meal. Dinner was served, and there was something terrible lurking in the gravy boat. It was an oil slick. Half was gravy, the other half a greasy layer of ick. I’m a big gravy fan and to say I was disappointed is a bit of an understatement. I don’t remember much, but I probably did my best to pull up the gravy from the bottom of the boat to slather my turkey, stuffing and potatoes with.

Fast forward a few hours and my grandma was resting in her room. Mom, my uncle, Jason and I sat around playing a game called Remote Possibilities and decide it was time for pie. I have to say, pumpkin pie is my all-time favorite pie. My grandma came out of her room and my mom headed off to the kitchen to serve it up. Jason and I were each served hearty slices of the good stuff. Jason took a bite and made an odd face. I wondered what his problem was because seriously, pumpkin pie doesn’t warrant that kind of reaction.

I got a nice big forkful, lifted it to my mouth anticipating a delicious bite of pie. Once said bite entered my mouth it only took a fraction of a second to understand why Jason had made that face. My grandma had forgotten to put the sugar in the pie filling.

My mortified grandmother suggested scraping out the pie filling, adding the sugar and pouring it back into the shell. Through our tear filled laughter, Jason and I decided to head down to the grocery store and pick up two pies for $4 and a bottle of wine.

I told my grandmother the pie filling would make a great pumpkin bread base but she just threw it away.

That dinner is still one of my favorite Thanksgiving memories, and I’m so grateful I still have my grandmother in my life. I feel very lucky for that. Even though she doesn’t live in SoCal anymore, and therefore I don’t get to share Thansgiving dinner with her, I make a point to call her and let her know I’m thankful she’s in my life.

So in closing, please accept this wish for you and your loved one as you gather around the Thanksgiving table. May your gravy be greaseless and your pies sweet!

How about you? Do you have any memorable Thanksgiving faux pas you’d like to share with the rest of us? Leave a comment and share with the class.