Mother stroked and I cried in the bathroom.
I was acting so strangely, trying not
to yell at the kids. But I did, and my sister
yelled at me. We did pull it together,
roasting the turkey and mashing potatoes.
There was gravy and the candied yams
she loved so much. The ones with 1/2 C. of brandy.
Don carved “the bird”, that’s what Mom called it.
And, we drank wine, toasting our mother who loved
her mashed potatoes and gravy. And her vino.
Sorry for your loss – I am sure Thanksgiving is now a bittersweet holiday – but your ending shows how resilient families can be, and how you toasted her memory.