I never did get a exact count of how many people were at Becky's house for Thanksgiving dinner.  On top of all the family, there were a couple of guys from a group home, and a couple of Asian exchange students.  Around thirty-three of us. I'm sure I missed someone.

We didn't run out of dressing or gravy which was my responsibility.  Or pie.  Becky does the pies.  Two or three pumpkin.  Three pecan.  Mincemeat. Coconut cream, berry cobbler.  I don't know how she gets all of those made, but every year, she does.  And whips real cream thick for topping off the pie.

Scott kept us laughing.  He has more hilarious stories--and a comic ability to tell them.

You never get to talk to all the people you want to talk to.  It's a mad house.  There were twelve members of the family that didn't make it.  I don't know that we've ever gotten everyone there at the same time.

We always do Thanksgiving as our time to get together in the year.  It's an agreement that seems to work for our family.  Everyone scatters for Christmas to the outlaw sides of their families and smaller groups.

Of course, I'm the oldest person in the room and can't help but think of all the Thanksgivings I'v been to in the past when there was an entirely different group of my family who gathered for turkey and blessings.  They are all gone to heaven now, and a new group has been born and gathers as a family.

I remember when I was little, my grandmother had all the family to her farm in Wilburton.  Then my mom took over doing it for years.  Then me.  And now Becky.  Everyone has a food "assignment" and somehow the table is covered with every favorite dish imaginable.  And everyone eats too much.  Ahhhh...