A Thanksgiving Birthday

This year I cooked the turkey on Wednesday, a day before Thanksgiving. I scooped out the stuffing and put it in a casserole dish. I deboned the meat and placed it in a  large  baking  dish.   I  put  the  bones in  the  freezer, planning to make broth sometime in the next week.

When my daughter and her family came for Thanksgiving my meal was ready. I said to her, “This worked well. I think I might want to do this again.”

She gave me a peculiar look and said, “You cooked the turkey on Wednesday last year too.”

“I did?”

“Mom, the baby was due and we didn’t know when I was going to go into labor. You made the turkey ahead and brought it over on Thanksgiving.”

And then I remembered. She did go into labor late in the day on Thanksgiving. Sometime during the early morning hours of the next day she went to the hospital with her husband—and I went along as extra support.

The birth of my youngest grandson was beautiful. The doctor commented that he wasn’t really needed. Everything proceeded smoothly.

I remember the birth of this little boy,  now  turning  one  year  old.  Memory of the Thanksgiving dinner has faded into the background.

But I think I will keep the tradition of cooking the bird on Wednesday.

This post is linked to Five Minute Friday. Every Friday Kate Motaung gives a word prompt. And then we write for five minutes. Today’s prompt is FAMILIAR.  Visit this community and join the fun by clicking here.