Each year, for several years when I was young and Grandma and maybe George (I don’t have any memory of him there) lived in Cape Cod I went to visit them during Thanksgiving and my birthday. I only remember one year, probably the last one, with my drawer that I couldn’t quite reach, and the blue berry pancakes on the pooh plate. I remember everyone standing around me and singing happy birthday and Grandma’s homemade stuffing. I remember being happy to be there with people who doted upon me and made my favorite food. The people who made fun of my height because that I couldn’t reach my drawer. (I was getting closer though, I swear.) Running after Lilly, who didn’t like me much, and watching the Richard Scary movies while the grown-ups talked about grown up stuff.
I remember sleeping with my dad and possibly Laurie (my memory is slightly blurred) and talking in my sleep and scaring them witless in the night. I don’t remember the presents I got that year or how old I was or really who was there, I just remember being surrounded by people who loved me. I have had several….unfortunate Thanksgivings since, with fighting, or few people, bad food, or smoke hanging over our heads, but that Thanksgiving is in my mind as the best one I have ever had, the ideal Thanksgiving.
I remember sleeping with my dad and possibly Laurie (my memory is slightly blurred) and talking in my sleep and scaring them witless in the night. I don’t remember the presents I got that year or how old I was or really who was there, I just remember being surrounded by people who loved me. I have had several….unfortunate Thanksgivings since, with fighting, or few people, bad food, or smoke hanging over our heads, but that Thanksgiving is in my mind as the best one I have ever had, the ideal Thanksgiving.
12 comments:
That would be a Simpkins thanksgiving! We need to see to it that you get a few more of those! :)
Yes, in Mexico.
yesss
I was thinking SHEPHERDSTOWN myself!
(Hey, young lady, do you have a snow day or what?)
nope. i'm sick.
same thing grandma and aunt beth had/have.
I remember very clearly all of the times you visited us on the Cape. The best part of living there was being closer to you! By the time we moved, you were a head taller than when we arrived in 1995, and you could get into your drawer just fine. Remember, the rescue squad is standing by for next Thanksgiving if you need us.
thanks...
i might take you up on that.
blech.
this sick thing is really awful.
i don't want to move, i can't sleep,
blahh
I"ve got it, too, all the way down here in Mexico. Yuck.
blech.
hey Johnny, i left you a comment on the 'something a little different'.
= ]
Build sets for plays? You must get to wear a tool belt don't you?
I like your writing, you must have my genes.
thanks.
i enjoy it.
no tool belt for me. =[
but i do get to use a drill!
i like to write.
my mommy teaches english.
yay.
i have a friend here so i'm going.
toodles!
This post made me cry, for several reasons: First, that Cecilia is old enough to write it, meaning I must be REALLY OLD now!
Next, that she already has such a firm grasp on the reality that our childhood memories are rarely matched in our adult years.
And finally, because it brought back some of my own memories--the outdoor shower, baking Snickerdoodles, Truro beach early in the morning-- of those wonderful times on Cape Cod where I visited my best friend Nancy before all the shit hit the fan.
P.S. Cecilia has obviously inherited her Grandmother's outstanding writing talent.
Post a Comment