A Thanksgiving Day remembered

Over the years I have accumulated my share of enough memorable memories of Thanksgiving Day feast, but there are always a few that remain dear even for all the wrong reasons. The earliest I remember goes as far back as 1957 and I happened to be eight years of age.

The table was nicely set with a tablecloth and I recall there was a candleholder with four white slender candles that bathed the room in deep warm amber tones. There was a small ceiling lamp that filled in the darker empty areas and the only reason I remember this particular Thanksgiving Day was that I could not stop talking.

I was certainly a chatterbox that evening and even after repeated warnings to button it up, I just would not listen. When all of a sudden out of nowhere, my mother’s hand struck my left cheek, but her astonishment and mine, my father’s hand had struck my right cheek at the same time I felt the burning sting on the other side of my face.

There was a momentary silence as my parents looked at each other in a bewildered surprise, while I turned my head from one side to the other looking at each of them with my own shocked expression before all three of us busted out laughing.

Now I cannot recall if I did finally keep quiet and paid attention to dinner or continued talking, I can say that it was that the following month my father won in a raffle a huge unabridged Webster’s Dictionary, which was presented to me on Christmas Day.

Thank you for stopping by and I hope you are
surrounded with the sounds of laughter
and the fragrances of good food set
among family and friends on this
Thanksgiving Day.



La Dolce Vita said...

and a blessed thanksgiving to you Egmont! love the still life and the art work together, awesome!

Anonymous said...

Oh I love this - memories of childhood. I have two - may I share them? One on my school report, age 6: "Ann would achieve more if she talked less.". The other is of our own - then little - daughter, age 8 (she's now 38). We were sitting in the lounge of a rather posh hotel in Shakespeare's Stratford-upon-Avon. C. was being what we call 'maggoty' and noisesome, when without warning, my hand landed slap on her bare leg. Instant hush in the room; a red mark appears on her thigh. She has never forgotten the incident, not have I. Thanks for sharing. I guess we are all quieter now.

Suz said...

I find your blog interesting and will visit again. Do you remember the laughs more or the slaps?
Funny what a child holds on to.
I will remember this as I spend my day tomorrow with my daughters...I will ask them what they remember about Thanksgivings past.

rivergardenstudio said...

This is a wonderful story, Egmont... so human... such a sprited little boy you were... have a lovely Thanksgiving... Roxanne

John M. Mora said...

Wonderful story from days of parental corporal punishment....TV was black and white and baseball players worked in the off season selling life insurance and shaking hands. No one paid for an autograph.

Perfect composiiton with the punpkins gourds and crate.

I want to wish you all the best for this Thanksgiving.



layers said...

I like how you had the photographic image on your other blog and the altered image here--- shows what can be done with photography-- beautiful.

Studio Sylvia said...

A wonderful story. Would love to have witnessed the expressions on your parents' faces. Happy Thanksgiving from Down Under.

sophie munns said...

Hi Egmont,
I do hope you have all had a wonderful, slow and peaceful Thanksgiving holiday!
Did you manage to hold on to the Webster's dictionary?
Curious the memories that last!

Maggie Neale said...

It is a wonder what memories surface and stay with us. Our Thanksgiving was quite and homey. It was fun to have my son for the day, as prep chef for my cooking. Bruce was feeling sick and stayed away, giving Jonah and me time. We worked in the yard as the day was sunny and warm for November. Turkey was Vt raised and delicious with strong bones and larger wings, but we talked of the Thanksgivings with 12 at table and how wonderful it was to make a big family for the dinner. We will do it again. Leftovers are a blessing.

Trudi Sissons said...

Now that's like being stuck between a rock and a hard place. Glad the humor rose to the surface. Thanks for the giggle!