Thanksgiving is gone, although memories remain,
of the food that was eaten and how weight was gained.
I remember last year and some holidays past,
when things went south quickly— I drank and got smashed.
This year’s turkey day wasn’t all like the others,
I behaved like a lady and shocked my dear mother.
“Gluten free” was my mantra, so no pie on my plate,
still makes me so mad, this condition I hate.
Big calories were salvaged by taters and wine,
even with no good gravy the dining was fine.
With our plates loaded up, we all sat at our table,
and lifted our forks while we were still able.
Before we began, we stopped to say grace,
to thank our dear Lord for our food at this place.
Our napkins were used until nearly thread bare,
we continued to eat as long as we dared.
Conversation and cider most surely did flow,
And our gobbled-up dinners through our waistbands did show.
After dinner we stayed and shared news with each other,
we also told stories with my cousin and Steve’s brother.
At 98 years of age, Mother’s still a great hostess,
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.
Now that it’s over, no matter what food we ate,
here’s my long-lasting thought, time together was great.
What now counts is reflection for what came our way,
and that we were together on Thanksgiving Day.
