My Grandmother has always put food on the table. Every Thanksgiving the family would go over to her mansion and the kitchen would smell of sweet turkey, ham, buttered mashed potatoes, and her amazing apple crisp accompanied by a heap of frozen French vanilla ice cream. She would always make sure that her hard work wasn’t a waste as she would sit there biding her time until the food disappeared with each plunge of the fork and each deep scoop with the spoon.

Never would she ever jump in line, throw some food on her plate, and see how her food actually tasted. For her, the tingle that touched her heart was the smile on each and everyone’s face as they stuffed the well cooked meal into their already open mouths as the family chattered about how well the food was prepared.

Usually before we ate, we would stand up and say grace, and it always went about the same. First, we would say thanks for keeping everyone safe over the year, then we would say thank God for the food. But, we all really knew that the wonderful food came from the selfless loving mother of my father and his two brothers.

Every cleaned plate in the sink just symbolized to her that nothing went wrong that day. According to her, a “thank you” wasn’t as important to her as a stuffed belly. That was what really said “thank you” to her.

Now that my grandmother lives in a new home and doesn’t own her enormous house any longer, the only feeling we still have of Thanksgiving is the plentiful food she prepares again and again every year. Each year she makes less and less, and someone will have to fill her shoes someday. Because she taught me that words are not the only way to say “thank you,” I’ve begun to pick up a recipe every once in a while to try to make the delicious food she once made. My food has been accredited with many stuffed bellies along with “thank you’s” and I owe it all to my Grandmother.

Now every time that I go visit her in what may be her retirement home, we discuss her food and how well I have begun to pick up on her habits. For all her hard work, and without a stuffed belly or the words “thank you,” I prepare food.