A Day to Give Thanks

This morning I awoke on my day off at 7:00 a.m. I was grumpy. Today I headed to my grandmother's home to help her with Thanksgiving. I was grumpy. My grandmother is 82, she has raised seven children and a mentally handicapped nephew. She is the central maternal figure of my mother's family. Without her I'm not sure we would gather. When I arrived at her home at 8:00 a.m. she had forgotten that I was coming, she is forgetting a lot lately. Her face takes you in when you arrive and you are so important in that gaze. We sat around two steaming mugs of hot tea while she finished her breakfast. Then the work began, we sat out plates, napkins, the good silver. We baked corn muffins, and warmed Sara Lee pies ("Only $1.99 Sarah, that's a deal!") She directed me while she sat and retained her strength. About two hours into the work and labor my grumpiness subsided. I had her all to myself today. I asked her about the city's politics, I questioned her about her history, I had her all to myself. While mixing corn muffin batter I watched her feebly folding her starched napkins, I watched her step carefully on her wobbly legs, and my heart wept. Silent tears slid down my cheeks as the knowledge of her aging body reached my heart. My grandmother's years are catching up with her, she is getting old.
My unwillingness to help could have prevented me from that special time that I had with her today. I had no obligations, I only wanted to stay in my bed to sleep. I am thankful that I didn't, because I had her all to myself...