We spent Thanksgiving in Kentucky for the "Robert J. Butler Family Reunion" (as my grandmother called it.) Cousins, aunts, brothers, sisters, children, grandchildren. All together after many years. 20 of us packed into one small house: air mattresses a
nd suitcases strewn across the entire household.
We were a loud bunch. Each new arrival brought shouts, hoots, kisses, and clapping at the door. We cranked up Stevie Wonder and Michael Jackson as we baked and cooked. We watched movies, played cards, talked.
Though I've always known it deep down, I know now more than ever I love to be with my family. All of us under one roof, sharing 1 bathroom, bumping into one another in the kitchen. I love the sounds of
board game bickering, the smells of corn bread baking, the singing and swaying together.
Thanksgiving day was a feast. My grandfather lead us in a prayer. We held hands in the kitchen and then piled endless supplies of food onto our plates: sweet tea, coffee, pumpkin bread, corn bread, greens, macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, scalloped potatoes, sweet potatoes, ham, turkey,
ribs, deviled eggs, german chocolate cake; pumpkin, chocolate cream, and lemon meringue pie. We spent the holiday filling up on food and family. We returned home thankful and refreshed.