We had a lovely Thanksgiving. It wasn't what we planned on. It wasn't what we hoped for. But it ended up being a wonderful day.
We were hoping to drive to Utah. The plans were to drive part way on Tuesday and finish the drive on Wednesday. However, a major winter storm that dumped snow over the Sierra changed our plans. We were very sad and very disappointed.
After calling my sister and letting her know we weren't coming, Ron and I had the sad task of calling our Utah daughters--Christie, Heather, and Jennifer and sharing the sad news with them. They understood why we weren't coming but it didn't make it any easier.
Then I called up my Mom and spoke to Jack. "We're not going to Utah for Thanksgiving. May we spend Thanksgiving with you?"
(How's that for inviting yourself to a big event?)
"Of course!" he replied.
It's great having family.
Over 40 people showed up at the church for the annual Thanksgiving Breakfast. We enjoyed a delicious egg-bacon-hash brown breakfast casserole, sweet rolls, fruit cocktail, and orange juice. After breakfast many of the grandchildren put on a talent show. We had piano players. We had a trumpet player. We had poetry recitations. We had our annual play put on by the younger children--a play this year that featured two little girls stuck in an Alice in Wonderland scenario with fairies and other magical creatures that were trying to help them get back home.
But, one of the highlights of the talent show for ME was when my brother Daniel and Emily performed a talent together.
They twirled their hair.
Who says I don't have a talented daughter?
Or a brother who is a very good sport?
Before Thanksgiving dinner, we called the Utah family. Carol and I talked to our Utah sisters and then we talked to Christie and Tim, Heather and Dustin, Jennifer and Jacob. It was great! It was fun! It was almost like being in Utah.
Almost. But not quite.
But, even though we were apart from the Utah family, it was wonderful spending time with the California family. It was wonderful to laugh and talk and work together making a wonderful feast and then working together cleaning up the mess.
It was wonderful to visit and catch up. It was then wonderful to go home and sleep in my own bed, not worrying about how we were going to get home from Utah because another winter storm this weekend is supposed to dump even more snow.
Yes, our Thanksgiving was not what we hoped for. But, it ended up being very, very nice.
Showing posts with label Thanksgiving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thanksgiving. Show all posts
Friday, November 26, 2010
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Smoke Gets in My Eyes
When Christie and Heather were very young, we had a neighbor who became our "Stockton Grandma." Sister Holsworth lived a couple of houses down the street. She had a cat named "Baby Girl" and a dog whose name I don't remember. We didn't have pets yet and Christie absolutely loved visiting Sister Holsworth's home and playing with her pets. There were a couple of mornings when the doorbell would ring--very early in the morning I might add--and there was Sister Holworth standing on the doorstep with Christie beside her. Sometimes Christie would still be wearing her nightgown, her bare little feet curled from touching the cold concrete. She had slipped out of the house to visit her special friends. I would thank Sister Holsworth for bringing her back home and try to help Christie understand that we didn't visit people before breakfast. I'm sure Sister Holsworth wondered what kind of parent I was at times.
We had Sister Holsworth over for dinner occasionally. We sat near her at church. At least twice we had her over for our Christmas Eve festivities--a special dinner and acting out the nativity. We were not only neighbors, but became good friends.
When Heather was about a year old and Christie was about five, Sister Holsworth asked me to drive her to the Sacramento airport. She said we could take her car. I'm sure she suspected that we didn't have a lot of money to pay for an extra tank of gas. I was a little nervous about driving to Sacramento with two little girls--the trip up wouldn't be so bad but returning home without an extra adult was going to be a little trickier. Yet, Sister Holsworth was my friend and I was happy to help out.
The appointed day came. Her car was unusual. It looked like a car but it had only one long bench seat with a covered cab in back. It was a mixture of a car and a truck. There were only three seat belts in the car and four passengers. This was before the very strict seat belt laws so I sat in the driver's seat, Heather was strapped into her car seat which was in the middle, and Sister Holsworth held Christie on her lap.
Soon after I entered Highway 5 I noticed the car seemed sluggish. I pushed down on the accelerator. Nothing happened. In fact, we started going even slower.
"Something's wrong, " I said. "We are losing power." I carefully pulled over to the shoulder of the road. As soon as I stopped, thick, dark smoke filled the cab. I literally could not see the other passengers in the car! Flames were shooting out of the hood. The car was on fire!
Sister Holsworth opened her door and pushed Christie off her lap. She fell in a heap on the ground and began crying. Meanwhile, I was trying to unbuckle Heather from her car seat. I was struggling to undo the latch as we were breathing in smoke. Sister Holsworth was finally able to free Heather and I grabbed her and exited the other door. Before our eyes her car was in flames. A truck driver going the opposite direction on Highway 5 stopped, ran across all the lanes of the freeway with a fire extinguisher in an attempt to put the fire out. It was too late. The car was a total loss.
After the CHP arrived, he placed us safely in his car and then called Ron at work to come and pick us up. Sister Holsworth never did make it to the airport that day. I don't know if she ever found out why her car suddenly caught on fire either. The situation caused a few nightmares, but I was extremely grateful that we were all safe. I was also very grateful that Sister Holsworth--with her arthritic hands was able to get Heather out of her car seat when my own nerves made it practically impossible.
And so in the Spirit of Thanksgiving--thank you, Sister Holsworth. Wherever you are.
We had Sister Holsworth over for dinner occasionally. We sat near her at church. At least twice we had her over for our Christmas Eve festivities--a special dinner and acting out the nativity. We were not only neighbors, but became good friends.
When Heather was about a year old and Christie was about five, Sister Holsworth asked me to drive her to the Sacramento airport. She said we could take her car. I'm sure she suspected that we didn't have a lot of money to pay for an extra tank of gas. I was a little nervous about driving to Sacramento with two little girls--the trip up wouldn't be so bad but returning home without an extra adult was going to be a little trickier. Yet, Sister Holsworth was my friend and I was happy to help out.
The appointed day came. Her car was unusual. It looked like a car but it had only one long bench seat with a covered cab in back. It was a mixture of a car and a truck. There were only three seat belts in the car and four passengers. This was before the very strict seat belt laws so I sat in the driver's seat, Heather was strapped into her car seat which was in the middle, and Sister Holsworth held Christie on her lap.
Soon after I entered Highway 5 I noticed the car seemed sluggish. I pushed down on the accelerator. Nothing happened. In fact, we started going even slower.
"Something's wrong, " I said. "We are losing power." I carefully pulled over to the shoulder of the road. As soon as I stopped, thick, dark smoke filled the cab. I literally could not see the other passengers in the car! Flames were shooting out of the hood. The car was on fire!
Sister Holsworth opened her door and pushed Christie off her lap. She fell in a heap on the ground and began crying. Meanwhile, I was trying to unbuckle Heather from her car seat. I was struggling to undo the latch as we were breathing in smoke. Sister Holsworth was finally able to free Heather and I grabbed her and exited the other door. Before our eyes her car was in flames. A truck driver going the opposite direction on Highway 5 stopped, ran across all the lanes of the freeway with a fire extinguisher in an attempt to put the fire out. It was too late. The car was a total loss.
After the CHP arrived, he placed us safely in his car and then called Ron at work to come and pick us up. Sister Holsworth never did make it to the airport that day. I don't know if she ever found out why her car suddenly caught on fire either. The situation caused a few nightmares, but I was extremely grateful that we were all safe. I was also very grateful that Sister Holsworth--with her arthritic hands was able to get Heather out of her car seat when my own nerves made it practically impossible.
And so in the Spirit of Thanksgiving--thank you, Sister Holsworth. Wherever you are.
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