Thanksgiving always makes me consider how I wish to be remembered. It seems like every year I flash back to everything good about childhood. I get engrossed in right now, forget the past, and fear the future. Thanksgiving dependably reminds me of the importance of our days. Specifically, it reminds me of how those who have gone before me influence my days.    

     Another Thanksgiving came and went. Once again, I relished cooking my turkey in my grandmother’s roasting pan. Again, my family gathered around too much food and stuffed ourselves. The grand meal march through leftovers upon leftovers continues.

     “Family-by-choice” invited us to spend the holiday with them but I declined. I hated to disappoint them, but something I could not name kept me wanting to be in my own kitchen.

     This year a cousin asked me for my grandmother’s recipe for what our family calls dressin. My grandmother cooked it from memory. My mother did too. Years ago, I watched Mother make it and wrote down every step. My attempts to duplicate it failed miserably. My Mother and Grandmother are both gone. Unwilling to do without, I kept wiggling the amounts of each ingredient until I finally succeeded. Several years in a row the recipe as written has delivered delicious dressin that tastes as if it came from Big Mama’s kitchen.

     The recipe contains the ingredients but not the steps for putting it all together. I nervously shared the recipe, hoping with all of me that my cousin would succeed. She did! I heard from both my aunt and my cousin. The news confirmed why I wanted to be at home for Thanksgiving. Dorothy Gale got it right when she said “There’s no place like home.”

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In January 2021, I shared a post entitled Great Granny Steffie. I have included an excerpt from that post.

     When I think about my life now in terms of what my legacy will be for those that come after me, I want to be a deep root or a strong branch. Ideally, I want them to admire 5th Great Granny Steffie. I want them to see strong positivity and love, not dirty dancing on TikTok, hate-filled tweets, or partisan political ranting. I want to be a person my ancestors can be proud of.

         We get engrossed in right now, forget the past, and fear the future. Life works that way. Even during Bible times people already looked for the end of times because they saw terrible things happening. Political unrest and polarizing issues exist in every generation. There will always be new drama. How we handle it becomes our test. Will we be badly behaved people behaving badly or will we be a light to those that are desperate for a source of strength and hope?

     I want my 5th great-grandchildren to know that Great Granny Steffie also thought of them. When they write their blog posts about what they found on ancestry.com and post the selfie some enterprising family member found and included, I want them to see strength. I want them to see joy, love, and light. When I look at my 5^th Great-Grandmother on ancestry.com I see lots of things but resolve shows the most. I appreciate that. Maybe I got that from her.   

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Meanwhile, dressin serves as an heirloom in my family. Though just a food item, it reminds us of so much more. Dressin works like a time machine. Now, more family members can take a trek into the past. Those of us present while Big Mama lived can close our eyes and taste her magical cooking again. With that, we remember the people gathered around the table. The new generation can grow up with the unique flavor to remind them of those around the table now for years to come.

Kroger has just put out a holiday commercial. This week, I saw it for the first time. I’m not ashamed to admit I cried watching it. It portrays perfectly how I feel, especially around Thanksgiving.