Thanksgiving (c.1975)

My mother cleaning up after Thanksgiving dinner. (Dig that crazy wallpaper!) 

Thanksgiving was very informal at our house. Our grandparents were our only guests. That's my grandfather sitting at the head of the table, keeping my mother company. God bless him, he'd wear a suit and tie just to bring in the newspaper.

My father and brothers were probably in the living room, with full bellies, no doubt engrossed in that day's football games.  My exhausted mother would undoubtedly agree with  Erma Bombeck who said, "Thanksgiving dinners take 18 hours to prepare. They are consumed in 12 minutes. Half-times take 12 minutes. This is not a coincidence."

Unfortunately, I was no mother's helper. To quote Charlie Brown: "I can't cook a Thanksgiving dinner. All I can make is cold cereal and maybe toast." My only contribution that day was the photo.

Now that I'm (much) older and have prepared a few Thankgiving dinners of my own,  I appreciate my mother even more. She was a chef, waitress, and skullery maid rolled into one, often without a word of thanks or recognition for her labor...the unsung hero of every holiday meal.  I wonder if she ever had a chance (or the energy) to actually enjoy the feast she provided for the rest of us. 

                                                                                                                                            Thank you, Mum. And to all the other mothers, as well.