Arkie John
Active member
As each holiday season approaches, it becomes more and more special to me. Each time I see the strings of geese migrating across the pale autumn skies, making their way, noisily, to warmer waters, I am reminded that I will not be here forever and that I'd better make the most of what I have. Now don't get me wrong; I'm not wishing my life away, but I must deal with the stark fact that (by mere longevity) I am probably the "next one to jump" into eternity. So allow me to make the most of what is left. Come along with me. You have the time.
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This year is like the others in some respects. With the coming of November comes also the memories of our folks both passing--mother on November 5th and daddy on the 20th. seven and thirty-one long years ago, respectively. That's always tough to handle. However, there is a built in relief valve that seems to play an ever-increasingly importance, here of late.
Now, in the same breaths and remembrances of the old folks, I thank the good Lord for all that He gives me and has given me and shall give me. Most of these blessings are a direct result of something mother and daddy or our grand parents did, that directly influences us even today.
It doesn't have to be anything big. I remember being a little fart, all of five years, following my daddy's daddy along the orchard. I watched as he, in his Big Smith blue-bibbed overalls and denim shirt, methodically planted several dozen apple trees that day. It was fun being with him, even though my toes were cold from jack frost anippin'. But I couldn't figure out what was SO important about planting ole tree saplings that would take FOREVER to grow. As he watered, he looked at me and said, "Johnnyboy, one day you will know why we did this."
My siblings and our friends and I, ate apples all our childhood days because of that act of love. We had apple jelly and apple pies when no one else in the neighborhood had apple jelly or apple pies. I had an orchard of shade trees on a hot summer day. We had a club house at the back of the orchard, hidden by Paw-paw's now-flourishing apple trees. Momma had a shelf full of canned apples most years. Life was good. But I digress.
To my wailings, anger and disbelief, In October of 1957, my grandfather-the man who would live forever-died when the trees were but about three feet tall. But I watched the trees mature...and my heart healed some. I watched as a boy, when daddy would put white-wash on them to keep the bugs at bay. I watched, mixed up as I might have been after I came home from the Navy, as some of them fell to the elements and to disease. That didn't happen until after daddy died. Slowly, one by one they all died except for two. They had fruit--golden delicious apples--until momma died. Then they died. But the memories didn't die...and I am ever-thankful.
I taught Virginia to make apple jelly after we were married. But we never make apple jelly but what I don't think of that cold autumn morning so very, very long ago when I watched my granddaddy plant those special love trees. Somehow, it makes the jelly taste sweeter. I think the indelible memory of that kind of love and caring has something to do with it all.
The apples are gone. The trees are all gone. The folks are gone. But...this thanksgiving, I still have my memories. Linda will serve up a feast--the first thanksgiving feast for all of us since momma died. Among the courses will be a wild turkey breast and momma's dressing. The turkey will have a glaze made of (among other ingredients) melted apple jelly.
I am so thankful for our family and the traditions that we inherited. This year, we will be passing some of these traditions along as we enjoy each other's company. Beside special dishes, there will be notecards stating where it came from, why it is here and who's recipe it might be. This year is unlike the others in certain respects. The kids--one got married off this year--one came back from the war yesterday--many are in college now--the kids are getting of age now. Hopefully they will sit back and take note that these things just didn't happen. (The dressing takes two days to make!) They must now assume the traditions as theirs. It is my prayer that they take copious notations to the heart.
I hope each of you has a special Thanksgiving this 2007. Pray for our troops and our loved ones and thank God Himself for your next breath because without Him we are nothing. Thanks for coming along with me on this special stroll through the orchard. I am so very thankful for the Apple Tree Thanksgiving. It's just part of me.
(Psalms 71, especially verse 8 )
Your thankful friend,
aj
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This year is like the others in some respects. With the coming of November comes also the memories of our folks both passing--mother on November 5th and daddy on the 20th. seven and thirty-one long years ago, respectively. That's always tough to handle. However, there is a built in relief valve that seems to play an ever-increasingly importance, here of late.
Now, in the same breaths and remembrances of the old folks, I thank the good Lord for all that He gives me and has given me and shall give me. Most of these blessings are a direct result of something mother and daddy or our grand parents did, that directly influences us even today.
It doesn't have to be anything big. I remember being a little fart, all of five years, following my daddy's daddy along the orchard. I watched as he, in his Big Smith blue-bibbed overalls and denim shirt, methodically planted several dozen apple trees that day. It was fun being with him, even though my toes were cold from jack frost anippin'. But I couldn't figure out what was SO important about planting ole tree saplings that would take FOREVER to grow. As he watered, he looked at me and said, "Johnnyboy, one day you will know why we did this."
My siblings and our friends and I, ate apples all our childhood days because of that act of love. We had apple jelly and apple pies when no one else in the neighborhood had apple jelly or apple pies. I had an orchard of shade trees on a hot summer day. We had a club house at the back of the orchard, hidden by Paw-paw's now-flourishing apple trees. Momma had a shelf full of canned apples most years. Life was good. But I digress.
To my wailings, anger and disbelief, In October of 1957, my grandfather-the man who would live forever-died when the trees were but about three feet tall. But I watched the trees mature...and my heart healed some. I watched as a boy, when daddy would put white-wash on them to keep the bugs at bay. I watched, mixed up as I might have been after I came home from the Navy, as some of them fell to the elements and to disease. That didn't happen until after daddy died. Slowly, one by one they all died except for two. They had fruit--golden delicious apples--until momma died. Then they died. But the memories didn't die...and I am ever-thankful.
I taught Virginia to make apple jelly after we were married. But we never make apple jelly but what I don't think of that cold autumn morning so very, very long ago when I watched my granddaddy plant those special love trees. Somehow, it makes the jelly taste sweeter. I think the indelible memory of that kind of love and caring has something to do with it all.
The apples are gone. The trees are all gone. The folks are gone. But...this thanksgiving, I still have my memories. Linda will serve up a feast--the first thanksgiving feast for all of us since momma died. Among the courses will be a wild turkey breast and momma's dressing. The turkey will have a glaze made of (among other ingredients) melted apple jelly.
I am so thankful for our family and the traditions that we inherited. This year, we will be passing some of these traditions along as we enjoy each other's company. Beside special dishes, there will be notecards stating where it came from, why it is here and who's recipe it might be. This year is unlike the others in certain respects. The kids--one got married off this year--one came back from the war yesterday--many are in college now--the kids are getting of age now. Hopefully they will sit back and take note that these things just didn't happen. (The dressing takes two days to make!) They must now assume the traditions as theirs. It is my prayer that they take copious notations to the heart.
I hope each of you has a special Thanksgiving this 2007. Pray for our troops and our loved ones and thank God Himself for your next breath because without Him we are nothing. Thanks for coming along with me on this special stroll through the orchard. I am so very thankful for the Apple Tree Thanksgiving. It's just part of me.
(Psalms 71, especially verse 8 )
Your thankful friend,
aj
