the dropping of the bird

It's Thanksgiving. The entrance into the holiday season. And while I still love the holidays, they've lost some of the luster from when I was a kid. Of course, how can you compete with the excitement of Santa, presents under the tree, and a week of no school?

My whole extended family would head over to my grandmother's house, where we would have a crowded, confusing, and completely fabulous time. Cousins, Aunts, and Uncles would fill every corner of her house. Grandma has since passed away, we all grew up, and the holiday get togethers pretty much stopped. My Aunt Carmie tried picking up the reigns for awhile, but she passed away several years ago and it just wasn't the same.

A story that I would hear around this time every year about my Aunt Carmie was a trip she took to the supermarket a week or two before Thanksgiving in search of the perfect turkey. She was bent down retrieving some cranberry sauce when a lady reached over her to grab a 20 pound bird. The bird slipped, fell on Aunt Carmie's head, and knocked her out cold.

From what I was told, she was out for about a minute, laid out flat upon the supermarket floor. She awoke, reassured the other shoppers that had gathered around that she was fine, and continued shopping. The turkey lady apologized, picked up her purchase, and left. Aunt Carmie was fine, and even though she would never complain, I have to admire the pain she was willing to endure for the family. Here's to hoping that she'll have an extra serving for me, up there in the great beyond.

Happy Thanksgiving to all.