And so begins my favorite week. Hay is in the barn, calving season is over, humidity is gone, and the family is coming home. There are no gifts to swap; no parade to attend. No one is dressing up like some ghoul and begging me for candy. No one is having a birthday and whining about being a year older. Just the people that mean the most to me, hanging out and overeating, enjoying each other’s company–and banana pudding.
The Beardens will gather in the farm house basement again–all one hundred of us. A feast will be spread, and Uncle Don will “give Thanks.” Someone is sure to mention Uncle Joel and talk of how much he is missed. I’ll think for a moment of those who have gone on before us: my mom and Olivia, cousins and others who are still so much a part of this family.
We’ll eat and talk. Then we’ll eat some more and talk again. We’ll save room for dessert and then complain about how we ate too much. And we will laugh–a lot. Laughter will be heard from one end of the basement and then from the other end. Cousin Elwyn is sure to tell a joke in the middle and laughter will break out there too.
The week of Thanksgiving has always been my favorite week. I suppose it’s because I’ve always had so much to be thankful for. This year we welcomed Jack’s little brother Carter into the family, and a week ago today, I held little Liam for the first of a thousand times…….My cup runneth over.