From My Kitchen Window

Okay, so I love my kitchen!  I especially love my kitchen when the sun moves across the sky during the fall and winter months.  The kitchen is in the front of the house, which faces south, so during the coldest part of the year, my kitchen is warmed by the sun, especially in the afternoon.  The pale yellow walls and white cabinets help lighten up the whole room. Oh, it could probably use some upgrading; new appliances and maybe granite countertops in place of the white ceramic tile.  But, it’s plenty good enough for me.

I have to admit looking out the window for the last year has been disheartening to say the least. So many pieces of construction equipment digging, filling, grading, leveling and pouring in order to convert the two lane highway to a five lane. But as I was washing dishes today in the sink, which is under the window, I didn’t see the now widened highway or equipment going back and forth.

 I saw family………..

When we moved to our home after living in our former home for twenty-one years, our daughters were already married. So, our new home wasn’t really home to them nor did it feel like home to us for a while. However, as time went on I realized that leaving our old home didn’t mean we had to leave our memories.

After we moved to our present home, I remember all the preparation for Thanksgiving that took place in our little kitchen over the years. There was always room for family to gather around, laughing and talking and occasionally lifting the lid from a pot on the stove to see what was cooking or peeking in the oven to see if the rolls were brown yet. Family would come in our back door bearing their contribution to the meal and saying, “Wow, it sure smells good in here!” and we would look in their baskets to see what special foods they had prepared for our meal.  There was always Son-in-Law’s pork loin, his Mother’s broccoli casserole, Daughter # 2’s sweet potato casserole and green bean casserole. Daughter # 1 always saw that we had plenty of rolls and usually a pie or two. And, the other Son-in-Law made sure he pealed enough potatoes to be mashed so he could have them for leftovers. I baked the turkey and made the dressing using a recipe that was passed down through generations. And, usually enough fruit salad, which our family calls Orange Junk, to accommodate Grandson # 2 and Granddaughter # 3’s big appetite for it.

At Thanksgiving, leaves were put in the two big dining tables to extend them; tables in the other rooms were set; chairs were gathered up from here and there and we sometimes managed to seat over forty people from near and far for our Thanksgiving meal.

As I gazed out the window today, my mind went back to the many Thanksgivings in the past. I could see the cars driving up our long driveway, bringing family and friends to spend another Thanksgiving with us.

Thinking back, I could hear the intense competition going on in a Monopoly game.  An occasional, “Oh, no!” followed by peals of laughter as one player gathered up handfuls of money from the others.

In my mind’s eyes, I can see all five grandchildren piled on the floor, arms and legs flailing wildly across the white plastic game trying to reach the red, yellow, blue and green circles depending on the color the caller yelled out.   In the end, they would be sprawled out, laughing and yelling, “I won! I won!”

Looking out my kitchen window, I remember another time when I could see our # 1 Grandson when he was about 15, sledding down our slanted yard, the snow flying behind him.  It didn’t matter to his Granddad that Grandson # 1 wiped out one of the yard lights before he could stop.

I could see our Granddaughters and Grandsons playing Frisbee with their Uncle and some of their friends one Thanksgiving. Our front yard is huge so there was a lot of room for throwing and chasing and falling down and laughing going on with the wind hurling that Frisbee every which way as they chased.

I could see four of our grandchildren before the last one arrived. They were scrambling for a position and then posing for a picture on the little concrete bench under the maple tree in our front yard; their hair blowing in the wind and smiles as wide as could be across their faces.

Our family is scattered now; Granddaughter # 1 and her husband, live in Texas. Grandson # 1 and his wife live about fifty miles away as does Daughter # 2’s family. Daughter # 1’s family is about three hours away and next Thanksgiving, Granddaughter # 2 will be married and living about five hours from us.  So, it’s difficult to get everyone together.

We moved to our present home the day before Thanksgiving twenty-seven years ago and still managed to celebrate Thanksgiving in our new home with family gathered around. So there have been a lot of good times centered around our little kitchen; lots of laughter and good food; lots of pictures made and stories told.  And, even though we can’t always be together physically for the holidays, we are always together in our hearts and that’s all that really matters.

God tells us to be thankful in all things.  And, I am thankful as I stand at my kitchen window and remember…………….

“And give thanks for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Ephesians 5:20