FRIDAY
The second load is clinking and swooshing in the dishwasher, the crystal lined up on the countertop waiting its turn.  The door and sawhorses that were used as an extension of the dining room table are taken apart and waiting to be returned to the garage.  The echoes of all the 21 kids and grandkids (HBW and his crew were the only ones not here) enjoying each others' company have faded.

Last year MamaCharlie and I had Thanksgiving with just the two of us.  Something that hasn't happened since 1968.  It was a little strange and a little sad, too.  We have always celebrated Thanksgiving well.  Over the years, MC has accumulated a lot of nice things and the holidays have always been an opportunity to showcase her things and her talents for decorating.  As the collection of nice things and the size of the family grew, the preparations became more elaborate.  We've come a long way from the Thanksgiving spent in Copperas Cove, Texas, where we ate our pot roast (the oven didn't work so no turkey) sitting at opposite ends of a piano bench (we didn't have a table, or a piano, for that matter).  MC always amazes me with her talent and her abilities.  So having a Thanksgiving with no one around to share it with felt a little empty.  When Toothache's wife called and asked if we had planned anything for this year and would we consider doing it at our house again, well...not a second's hesitation.

 
I love having all my littlies and their littlies around.  After dinner, the conversations picked up in volume;  the adults and kids laughing, all the cousins racing up and down the hall and round through the kitchen with their squeals and shrieks.  The guitars came out and the singing began.  It got pretty chaotic for a while;  in other words, a pretty successful Thanksgiving.  At some point in these gatherings, I have to find a quiet place and settle my weak little psyche...the sounds of gaity, the shrieks and squeals, too easily morph into the sounds children make in pain and terror.  So I have a couple of places I can slip off to and most of the family understands, I am not being anti-social so much as trying to regain composure.

Thursday night's quiet place was our den.  Once it was MamieLady's bedroom.  Now it is a cozy place where MamaCharlie and I watch TV, read, talk, and fall asleep watching TV, or reading, or even talking.  As a den, it is almost perfect.  It is right across the hall from our bedroom, at the far end of the house away from the dining room and living room, where all the noise is usually generated.  I had the baby-gate across the door because, due to re-construction projects in the basement, our two Lab-Border Collie dogs have lost their kennel space and are converting to sleeping and interacting in the main part of the house...so I had them in the den for the evening.  

I was pleasantly surprised that they hadn't made a sound;  we used to keep them kenneled when company was around and they would often woof their disapproval at not being able to socialize.  Thursday night they were very well-behaved.  I limit their contact with the littlest grandkids not for any fear of biting or such, but they each weigh in at over seventy pounds and could easily level a kid without meaning any harm.  They are always very sweet and cautious with the kids, but they are also very excitable, so I err on the side of caution.

I had just settled into my chair when I heard a little voice calling, "Gruppa".  It was Hazel, my youngest grandaughter.  Just under a year and a half old, she has mastered walking (tall thresholds still present a challenge) and has been expanding her vocabulary daily.  I still need MamieLady to translate most of the time but Hazel is very forgiving of me not speaking her language.  She loves dogs.  So I lifted her over the gate and sat her on my lap and both dogs came up to say hi.  Geordie, the larger, more "Lab-ish" of the two, put his chin on her lap and little Hazel melted.  She wrapped her arms around Geordie's big old head and laid her cheek on him and just cooed and talked up a sweet storm.  Geordie sat and took it...he loved it.  Ingo, the more Border Collie-ish of the two, sat politely waiting for his turn, something fairly unheard of since they are always jockeying for position to be petted with MC or me.  In the middle of all the chaos, it was the sweetest thing that had happened to me all day.

Now, I am "Gruppa" and I love all my kids and their kids dearly.  Every one is a genius in his or her own way.  They are fun to watch interacting with each other, or with other adults, and we just enjoy the heck out of them.  But occasionally, one or another of them will hit a special spot and a lasting memory is cemented.  If I live to be three hundred years old, I will never forget the sweetness of that moment with Hazel and the boys...

So, I will call it a success.  It is now Monday and I had turkey sandwiches for breakfast...for the eighth consecutive meal, and it looks like our traditional turkey rice soup for dinner tonight...if I don't sneak out to MacDonald's for a McRib.