Author’s note: I post this picture of my Grandma Betty Spradling, and our daughter Claire, in its “doctored” form, taken and created by Beth Forester, of Forester Photography in Madison. I post a similar version with no enhancements, to compare. It has circulated the internet often with messages of inspiration, and it has won awards for Beth. We released it for that purpose, but after its travels, I fully expect to walk into Hallmark one day and see it on a cup or card. Sitting here, turkey in the oven, I think about how much I miss my grandmas. Happy Thanksgiving, A.S.
I will not lie, there are acquired tastes,
But not the beast you have to baste.
It wasn’t all about the food,
But the place, the people, and the mood.
Couches full of football fans,
The kitchen full of sisters and,
Children, running, up and down,
in and out, all around.
Mothers talking over coffee,
Pies aplenty, cakes, and candy.
It wasn’t till the second game,
Eyes grew heavy, jokes got lame.
The kitchen finally clean again,
Grandma sits, she can’t pretend.
A well-deserved break’s in line,
She smiles, her family satisfied.