We planned thanksgiving this year with ‘untraditional’ in mind. But that plan was for the food. Little did we know that apparently God had a slightly more altered graphic plan.
Steve, being the only real chef at our house, began his food prep a day early. Chop chop. Sauté. Marinade. Mix mix. The yeast was doin’ its thing. And music was drifting through the house as I prepared the guest room! Brother was on his way, motoring toward West Virginia with a plan of arriving the next day, noonish or after. Dinner was scheduled for three.
But Lo, The next morning… “Ring” “Ring”…
“Hello”…
“Good morning Brother”… “A bit of bad news. Vehicle breakdown. I’m so so sorry! And I was bringing you so much stuff, including a plant and batch of my homemade fudge.”
In an earlier phone call Dean had asked “What is your favorite kind of fudge? I make the best, you know!” Steve had replied “Yes, yes and yes” meaning there is no bad fudge. “You choose.” Dean chose ‘Chocolate Cranberry Walnut’.
“Gonna have to get a tow truck for my vehicle and I’ll probably just need to catch a flight home” Dean continued. To which Steve responded “Wait wait”…. “Why don’t we come get you? It’s only five hours away. Then we will take you home in a few days. We can just do our Thanksgiving dinner a day late.”
And so our holiday began.
Backing up a bit, we had invited brother Dean to come spend a few days with us. His wife Linda had passed a few months ago and Steve & I both understood the difficulty of getting through those first holidays after losing a spouse. With the invitation accepted, we had begun planning a visit that initially kept getting postponed. But finally Thanksgiving time rolled around. So, game on! Our schedules synchronized. Now with yet another interruption presenting itself, we all agreed ‘‘enough is enough’’…. Several years had passed since Steve and Dean had spent some quality time together. So devil, we’ve had enough interruptions to this reunion. It’s time to resist your schemes. And we did!
With a late morning departure, travel mugs of coffee in hand, the navigator programmed and activated we set out in route to an unfamiliar address. I thought of the movie “The Homecoming” and we’re in our make believe horse and sleigh, whipping through the afternoon on a mission. The only thing we lacked was the Baldwin Sisters and a little swig of the “recipe”…. smile.
But back to my story! Brother Dean was waiting and ready to be picked up 5 1/2 hours later. We loaded and began the return trip home.
“Alas!” Something had been forgotten. “Awe… I forgot the fudge! It’s in the van being towed back home” Dean said, with an exasperated look on his face and a disappointed tone in his voice. After threats to throw him out alongside the road (not really of course lol) he promised to make it up to us. Knowing of his culinary skills from earlier years (Dean had actually served celebrities back in the day as a chef in Hawaii), Steve & I smiled at each other, knowing how we would collect on this IOU.
We three arrived back at our West Virginia home late that night in agreement to sleep in the next morning. “First one up makes coffee!” I chimed.
The plan was to spend the remaining days visiting, eating our bounty and enjoying the getting reacquainted time between two brothers. And I was anxious to get to know yet another new brother!
Steve’s dinner pre-prep from Wednesday paid off and the birds “Cornish Hens” were well into their second day of marinating! “No Skimping”… one of Steve’s mottos. We each was to have our own bird! All was ready for the finishing touches to our scheduled one day late 3 pm thanksgiving dinner. All is good!
Fabulous earthy, savory & spicy smells was slowly drifting from the kitchen throughout the house. Dean was playing some beautiful music on his keyboard; ‘The Little Drummer Boy’ followed by ‘Silent Night’ and I resting with coffee in hand and thoughts once again drifting to “over the river and through the woods to grandmother’s house we go”….
Pumpkin’ Pies! Mincemeat pies! Always my favorites, having lived many of my younger years on the farm at my grandma Weaver’s house in Gilmer County. We (They) raised hogs and usually butchered at Thanksgiving time. Mincemeat was made and canned up and set on the wooden shelves in the family root cellar which was connected to the house by the roofed concrete porch. Canned pumpkins and other farm produce from the garden filled the rows of shelving every winter. So as tradition goes, pies mysteriously showed up on Thanksgiving day. A surprise to me at least! I never knew the late hours that Grandma Delphia and Aunt Ova spent canning and preserving so the family could have amazing home cooked meals; especially on such special holidays. But, back to my story. This year Steve had ordered some special homemade pies for Thanksgiving from a local family. I knew they wouldn’t be quite the same as Grandma Weaver’s or Momma’s or Auntie’s or Steve’s, but I knew they would be delicious still the same.
Finally we heard, “Meal is on!” I cannot even describe what husband presented to us in the platters and bowls he brought to the table. Legendary is an understatement. Even Dean said that Steve was the real chef… and that was an endorsement that will surely be cherished! He added that Steve and I could easily establish our own Bed n’ Breakfast with such meals and hospitality. And set our own charge. “We’d stay booked!” he promised.
Do I even need to tell y’all that the evening in our extended recliners went very well “smile”. I joined the men after doing my part in this feast, which was kitchen cleanup!
Our second day together, being somewhat rested, proved to be more active. The brothers drove to our nearby town of Grantsville, doing the loop tour. Returning home they in-delved into a hike around our property, including Sawtelle Falls, at the lower edge. This quaint name was given by son-in-law Jason soon after we had purchased our soon to be new home in late 2021. He had mounted a primitive wooden sign near the anticipated falls as a surprise for us. After a rain, we have a small stream trickling down the small ravine and a tiny waterfall. Maybe a babbling brook could be next in the making? Or an easier walking path for an occasional visit. Maybe a picnic table or rope tire swing. Or a comfy bench. Good place to go and just sit. Or meditate. Or write. Or pray. Thank you Jason for officially establishing our family acres.
The brothers returned to the house and reclined briefly to continue the ongoing “James Bond” movies. Steve loves “James Bond”… Enough to have purchased The Complete James Bond Collection, a set of movies panning over several years, with changing Bond characters periodically. I’ve learned that with the Sawtelle brothers; Steve, Ron and Dean, the love for some movies are shared. The JB series is a must watch for Steve, beginning early in November and finishing well before Christmas. Every year! So the saga began a few weeks ago. Coming later in December, our living room will be filled with “A Christmas Story” movie. Back to back from morning til night on the selected day. You know, right? Ralphie with the Red Ryder BB gun. And the famous “Leg Lamp”, not to forget the “Triple-dog-dare ya” quotes or the “soap poisoning’ or the “Deranged Easter Bunny”/“Pink Nightmare”! Speaking of the Sawtelle traditions, I must mention that on Groundhog Day, at out house, it’s the back-to-back Groundhog Day movie, starring Bill Murray. I won’t try to dissect and understand the common thread that runs with the men in this family. I just accept it and plan to stay busy or make my away time on these days.
As late afternoon approached, Chef Dean prepared for his shift. In the kitchen of course! I can’t smile enough as I remember his version of Chicken Marsala. Shut the back door!!! Amazing, flavorful and comforting. Enough said! But I will add that he shared his story that over the years he had prepared this dish for his late wife Linda, because she really liked it. I can definitely understand why. Guess it was the added touch of being prepared with love. So Steve and I are feeling loved indeed.
I think I sense a cook-off coming with the next brother get-together. All in the name of love!
Reminds me of stories in scriptures about banquet tables, wedding feasts and the killing of a fattened calf. In all these stories the common theme is “Love”…. a father’s love, family love, brotherly love, forgiveness and restoration. Nothing is too good for those we love! It is the tie that binds!
Today, we’re traveling again. Gingerly motoring along. Me in the back seat with my pillow, blanket, coffee and a tenderly and lovingly-made slice of banana nut bread. A treat from da’ daughter. She is truly my jewel and hero. Always giving me bounty from her love jigs. And as the two Sawtelle men take their driving shifts, I meditate and ponder about the love and safety I’m feeling in their care. I ride. I write. I give you another “Heart Path” story. Once again, straight from the heart, unpretentious and humble. I contend with myself to continue writing and presenting invitations and challenges for myself and others who want to get on the train of attempting to become more like our maker in daily lifestyles and mannerisms. His love is simple, uncomplicated and direct, with a still small voice that continues to echoingly whisper “the way to me is through my Beloved Son. His name is Jesus! There is no other way. No other path that leads to Him. A true Heart Path.
Contact me at alice.heartpaths@gmail.com
