A Thanksgiving to Remember

I've spent my afternoons looking at cookbooks, trying to find something "new" for Thanksgiving and Christmas menus. I guess that we just shouldn't mess with those two holiday menus. If I change something...someone will be sure to say, "Where's my favorite what ever?" That old menu has something special for everyone. I got to thinking about memories of my Thanksgivings way back and this comes to mind first. It was a warm Thanksgiving, when I was just a girl of 8 or 9 in grade school. My favorite uncle would be coming to Grandma's and he was bringing a new wife. He'd been married a couple of times before, but hadn't met just the right one. The women of the family were whispering and tee heeing about this latest choice as they prepared dinner. I heard, what I thought, very favorable things about her. She was beautiful, young, flashy and had my uncle completely around her finger. I was all ears. Who was this glamorous woman that my uncle had married? The kitchen was bustling with preparations for the big meal. I heard a knock at the door. I ran to open the door first...to greet my favorite uncle and his new wife. He had a big grin on his face as he said, "I'd like you to meet Hilda." There she was, looking very glamorous in a tight red dress, cowgirl boots, lots of jewelry...dangly earrings, necklaces and bracelets. She had a rather full head of red hair. She said, "Hi darlin," to me. He proudly escorted her into the dining room. We were just about to sit down to eat. We were all introduced to Hilda. Grandma had a scowl on her face. She was a "church woman" a Methodist all her life. Very strict in her beliefs and she didn't believe that this "hussy" was good for my uncle. As the meal progressed I just fell in love with Hilda and kept asking her questions. I found out that she sang on the Barndance and that she could yodel. After dinner I kept asking her to yodel, which she did so eagerly. I was as happy as a lark...my favorite uncle had brought me a favorite aunt, who wasn't stuffy and old fashioned like the other aunts. I would say, "Hilda...yodel," and she would yodel a few tunes. I saw Grandma looking at me with a stern look on her face. I sensed that she wasn't very happy with me. The aunts had that same look on their faces. My Mom squeezed my hand, as she did when she wanted me to stop doing something. I was puzzled...why didn't they want to hear her yodel? I sensed that they didn't like her. When the day was over and Hilda and my uncle went home, a sigh of relief was heard in the room. The women left for the kitchen and went back to their whispering and snickering. I didn't catch on that day, but later on I found out that they were not happy with my uncle's latest choice. She and my uncle divorced the next year. She left me a memory of an interesting Thanksgiving years ago, when I saw my family through different eyes. They were only human and not very accepting of someone different. My uncle is gone now...he married five times in his lifetime, never finding the right one. He continued on being my favorite uncle...always fun and very interesting.

Balisha