This morning we woke up to fog and I was so excited! The swirling gray around the trees and the misty cool dew on the plants made me grateful and happy. Maybe it's from my roots in the Pacific Northwest, but it just made my day start out perfect. It put me in the mood for the holidays and made me realize how grateful I am this Thanksgiving day.
For some reason today, I wish I were in Payette, Idaho at the high school (or Ontario, Oregon at the institute building or wherever they are this time) at the big Butler Bash. It's been years and though we have created traditions of our own, there's nothing like Thanksgiving with the Butlers.
The excitement of driving there will never leave me. The excitement of seeing all the cousins and aunts and uncles and friends who needed a place to go and the missionaries and especially Grandpa and Grandma Butler. The gym was crazy with all the kids running and laughing and pick up basketball games going on. Someone would be getting the pinatas ready for the big unveiling later on. There was always a television on with a football game and the older cousins "hanging out" because it was cool.
My favorite part was the kitchen....Aunt Sandy making mashed potatoes that put Martha Stewart to shame, Uncle Lee with his smoked turkey, my mom and all the aunts bustling around, laughing and breaking out in song and swatting hands out of the food and hugging me over and over again.
Grandma and Grandpa Butler were always there in the center of it all. Grandma would help out with the food and holding babies and Grandpa would be trying to figure out how we were related to the visiting missionary.
I remember the long tables with butcher paper that were for the cousins on missions. We drew on those for hours, creating masterpieces for the lucky recipient. There were always babies to hold and love and an adopted grandma or grandpa to meet and greet.
The food went on for miles, it seemed. The anticipation was almost too much sometimes. The smell would bring everyone in at some point or another in the preparation process. There was always enough to sneak a taste and if you were really good, Uncle Lee would let you sample the smoked turkey while he was carving it.
How we fit all those people in the home economics room of the high school or the cultural hall of the institute, I will never know. There were a lot of us, but there was always room for one more. As I look back, I remember the prayers being long. Only because I was ready to eat. Now, as an adult, I know why they prayed so long. There are so many things to be grateful for.
After dinner it was the pinatas. It was an exhilarating experience! There were no less than 5 pinatas every year. From the oldest to the youngest, there was serious bat swinging and anxious children as pigs and turkeys and clowns and cows and footballs and other shapes sucumbed to the blows. When the candy spilled, it was chaos for about 45 seconds as children scrambled for the goodies inside the pinata.
The grand finale, however, was the talent show....eat your heart out "America's Got Talent" because the best on your show pale in comparison to the strong man act of Uncle Lee or the new pregnancy revealing of one of the aunts. My dad with his ukelele singing folk songs or the cousins pulling together a last minute skit that was neither funny or talented, but we laughed so hard we were crying. And somehow, I can't remember exact details, "Hoya! Hoya!" got started with something Uncle Tom did. For years after that, it was "Hoya! Hoya!" when applause and laughter wasn't enough!
Funny, but at the time my grandparents faces didn't affect me, but now I can clearly see them with their smiles and Grandma Butler laughing so hard she was crying. Grandpa Butler slapping his knee and both of them holding hands. I now realize, they were loving every minute of the chaos and entertained down to the littlest cousin singing. Their faces were faces of people who had endured hard times - the depression, loss of loved ones, financial successes and failures - and yet, they were still grateful and firm in the gospel of Jesus Christ. We always got a rendiditon of "Margie" for Grandma's sake and then sang "Love at Home" with Grandpa up front, his arms around his sweetheart, singing as loud as he could.
Some year, it would snow and we would squeal with delight and run outside to let the snowflakes drop on our outsretched tongues. The adrenal rush of everything was enough to make you giddy as a child! The snow falling and the lights of Christmas being lit would make the holiday season start with perfection. As a child, I loved Thanksgiving evening. It was such a satisfying feeling to have a full belly and cousins and loved ones around me, the snow falling and the anticipation of Christmas coming in just a few weeks! The good-byes and piling in the car with the leftovers was not deflating because the laughter lingered in your mind and the hug you just got from Grandpa and Grandma Butler still tingled with how much they loved you.
Years and miles and death have now separated most of us, though I know there's a Butler Bash happening in Ontario with whoever can be there. I know my mom and Uncle Rusty are having a Butler Bash in Utah. My family is all over the world, so we are celebrating in Virginia, Germany, Utah, Texas, Arizona, Oklahoma, Oregon and Turkey. I wish we could all be together and hold our own Bash, but in our own ways, we will. My sister, Anna, said on her blog that they are hosting soldiers with no place to go. I know my other siblings will be with others who love them and who need a place to go also.
We are going to Jason's paren'ts house this year. I am dissapointed we are not at Hilton Head, South Carolina at the beach like we normally are. But, we are having a dear friend, Doris Janiak, whose husband passed away just ten days ago, come with us. I am bringing butcher paper for drawing and writing for the missionaries and for my step brother, Jarrid, who is in the military.
So, though the Butler Bash is impossible to get to this year, we, because of Grandpa and Grandma Butler, carry on the traditions that mean the most. Like my grandparents, it is my turn to see the delight of the children and give hugs to the nephews who will be there and sneak a taste of the turkey. Last night, the smell of cooking apples to make and apple crisp brought back so many memories. We will have plenty of yummy food and desserts and will be blessed with a prayer from Jason's dad. It may seem long to my children, but I hope, that as I do, they will someday realize that long prayers are a blessing of how much we have been given. I am grateful for the fog I woke up to to remind me of how great life really is and how blessed I am to have a roof over my head, food to eat and a family who, despite the distance, loves me and I love them. Happy Thanksgiving 2009!
