Thanksgiving Thoughts...and a Recipe!

This week has been very busy for me. I got to host both my family and my husband’s family for Thanksgiving this year, so I spent the better part of the week getting ready for Thursday, which is why I haven’t posted anything yet—I simply haven’t had time! But I wanted to share with you some of my thoughts on Thanksgiving…and I bet they’ll surprise you!

I love Thanksgiving. I love the food, the fellowship, the family time, everything about it! I especially love how it encourages us all to stop and take time to focus on how much we are blessed, because, friends, let me tell you, we really are! I love taking the time myself to list each of my many blessings and thank my Heavenly Father for all He has done in my life—I am truly grateful! But in the midst of all this gratitude and joy, there is one sad note that is inextricably intertwined with my family’s and my Thanksgiving celebrations. You see, five years ago, my mother died of breast cancer three days before Thanksgiving, and not a Thanksgiving goes by that I don’t think of her.

My mother was truly a blessing. She was a rock in my sisters’ and my life. She was gentle, kind, and patient—I remember very few times I ever saw that woman lose her temper. Not that she was perfect; in fact, even as a child, I understood that I took advantage of her good temper and leniency and got away with a lot more than I should have. But she was so gracious. At her funeral, it was funny, that was the number one thing everyone said about her—she was so gracious. It didn’t matter what life threw at her, she was always calm, composed and able to handle it graciously. In my mind, she epitomizes Peter’s description of the godly woman who has a “gentle and tranquil spirit, which is precious in God’s sight” (I Peter 3:4, NET).

Not that life was easy for her. She was the second oldest of five children and the oldest girl, so as a young teenager, she pretty much handled the daily care of her siblings because their parents worked so much to provide for them. They lived in Ft. Lauderdale, FL, and by her own admission, she was a “beach bunny”, spending as much time at the beach as possible, but that all ended in her late teens when she was raped, we don’t know by whom, we don’t know when--she never would say, but the trauma changed her irreversibly.  At that point, she began seeking a deeper relationship with God and finally accepted Him as her Lord and Savior while she was in junior college.

She met my dad after college when she was at her first teaching position, and there could not have been two more different people. While my mom was quiet and reserved, my dad has always been outgoing and boisterous, and though friends and family all questioned the relationship, God, in His infinite wisdom, knew that they needed each other. Mom needed someone to make her laugh and help her relax, and Dad needed someone to tone him down when he got a little too boisterous. They had me and my two sisters, but in between sister #2 and sister #3, Mom suffered a terrible miscarriage, losing their only son in a very hard childbirth. This trauma also left its mark on her life.

Mom and Dad both had to work hard to support us kids. Growing up, it seemed like Dad was always working (many times 2 or 3 jobs just to pay the bills), and Mom had us three girls to manage on her own when she was home from work, and frankly, discipline was not her forte. (And frankly, we needed discipline—I recall us being very stubborn in our disobedience.😞) Additionally, Dad had joined the National Guard when I was in 2^nd or 3^rd grade, and he later transferred to full-time Army, so he was periodically gone for monthly drills, weeks-long training sessions, and months spent overseas on different missions. But God was faithful—we always had enough to eat, enough to wear, and a roof over our heads, and even more, as a family, we always had love and faith carrying us through the difficult times, and I believe my mom was a huge part of that. Her love for God and her family and her faith in God’s plan and God’s care greatly influenced the way we three girls view life, faith and family.

I know this sounds more like something that should be written for Mother’s Day, but I am thankful that I had the mother that I had, and I miss her. The breast cancer that took her to Jesus was her second bout with the dreaded disease, and while the first time didn’t seem to leave her too much different, the second time changed her. It wore her down, exhausted her, ate away at her stamina and strength and her mental capabilities. She was diagnosed in January, and in April or May (I can’t remember which) I discovered I was expecting our second child, Tater, our only son and my parents’ only grandson. All through my pregnancy, I carried her to doctors’ appointments and chemo treatments and tried to spend as much time with her as possible because Jimmy, who had lost his own grandfather to cancer the year before we married, had recognized the signs and advised me that she very likely wouldn’t beat it this time. In September, my dad, who had come home from Korea to care for her full-time, asked her what she had to keep living for, and she replied, “I want to meet my grandson.” Tater was born on November 11, 2014, and Mom died two weeks later on November 24, three days before Thanksgiving. Her last trip out of the house was to see him in the hospital after he was born.

To be clear, I don’t wish my mom back to this earth. The cancer that took her life had reduced her so much physically and mentally that I would not wish her back to this earthly life with all of its pain and sorrow for anything. But I miss her voice, her wisdom and insight (especially in parenting), and the knowledge that I could tell her anything, and she would listen and love me regardless. It wasn’t until after she died that I realized she really was one of my best friends, and that’s not something that’s easy to replace. Most of all, I regret that both my youngest and my sister’s youngest have never had the chance to meet their paternal grandmother, and my son, of course, has no memory of her. I can only pray that one day they will get to know her in heaven.

But the legacy she left my family is priceless; the example she set my sisters and me of what it means to be a godly woman is profound. I said at the beginning that she was known for her graciousness, and it is that quality that I most want to emulate in my own life. Her ability to stay calm and at peace, even in a crisis, I believe stems from those horrible traumatic experiences of her younger self, because in those horrible experiences she discovered that God is faithful always, and He is in control always, and His love carries us when we cannot carry ourselves; and that knowledge, gained from such hard-won experiences, enabled her to be at peace inwardly, regardless of what her outer circumstances were.

This Thanksgiving I am thankful for the example of godly people, beloved by their family and friends, who have gone on before us and yet left an impact on our lives that we never forget! I am thankful for that cloud of witnesses the writer of Hebrews discussed, who are cheering us on from the finish line, urging us to finish well, even as they themselves did! And I am most thankful for my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, whose heroic sacrifice and amazing resurrection give us hope of eternal life and the chance to meet those we love who have died once again in heaven!

So, in honor of my mom, this Thanksgiving I am giving you, not a Thanksgiving recipe per say, but the #1 most requested recipe from my sisters and me to our mom, our favorite dish that she made us time and time again: Chicken Fricassee. I don’t know what chicken fricassee means to you (the recipes I’ve found online are wildly different from each other), but to my family, it means tender chicken browned in a gravy with dumplings on top and French cut green beans on the side (separate dish, but we always had them together😋).

It doesn’t matter what kind of chicken you use—I’ve used breasts and thighs; they both work well, the thighs are a little more tender and juicy—as long as it’s boneless and skinless. Cut the chicken into small pieces and saute in a skillet until it's browned.

Next, add in your water and spices, simmer for a few minutes, and then add in the flour and water to make a gravy.

Mix together your dumplings and drop by spoonfuls on top of the chicken and gravy. Cover and steam for 20 minutes or until the dumplings are firm.

And I also note that if you don’t like the dumplings (as my husband who detests soggy bread, does not), the chicken and gravy are very good served over rice or mashed potatoes, so you have that route to go as well.

However you make it, I hope that you will find it as delicious as my family always has, and I hope that you will take time this week to tell the people you love how important they are to you, because you never know how much time you have with them. (It’s a cliché because it’s true!) Happy Thanksgiving!