Granddaddy and Grandma Delk’s house was the hub for all family gatherings when I was growing up in Ocala.
My aunts and grandma were excellent cooks, so we all looked forward to eating good food. The meal included turkey, ham and all sorts of side dishes. My focus was on dessert.
My mom made pumpkin and pecan pies, but Aunt Marcy remains my favorite baker. She always was the creator behind my favorite desserts. To this day, I dream about her chocolate pecan pies and pound cakes.
As good as the food was, my favorite Thanksgiving tradition was the conversation.
I am the oldest grandchild and didn’t sit with the adults until well into my teens, but that bothered me none. I’d sit at the kids’ table- on the side closest to the adults’ table. I was a supreme eavesdropper. The only thing that could distract me from following those conversations was family friend Bill Baker, who could mesmerize us kids with his uncanny ability to sound exactly like a train whistle. He had us convinced that pressing his forehead elicited the delightful sound. A few thumb presses and Bill’s red forehead later, I was back to my laser-focus on those conversations.
I learned a fair amount about everyone’s political leanings.
They talked about muscle cars and University of Florida Coach Charley “Give ‘em Hell” Pell. Any time a family member was pregnant, I was sure to listen in on which L name had been chosen for the baby. L names are a Delk family tradition that spans four generations.
There was always a discussion among the men about the state of the world. I marvel at how much I sound like my dad and uncles when discussing the same topic today. Eventually, my mom or dad would realize I was listening a little too intently and shoo me outside, where I’d rejoin the cousins for a game of freeze tag. Out there, the biggest problem was the occasional instance where someone was tagged but didn’t freeze. We would mete out the proper punishment to the cheater.
As a child, I never dreamed a day would come that those gatherings would end.
I didn’t realize the pull my grandparents’ had in keeping our extended family bonded. Sadly, my family was not immune to death and divorce, and over the years the gatherings dwindled. We grew up, got married or didn’t, had kids or didn’t, and found our new Thanksgiving traditions.
My husband Michael and I now enjoy quiet Thanksgivings spent camping on our Florida Panhandle property and maybe squeezing in a bit of deer hunting over the long weekend. Still, I enjoy revisiting those big family Thanksgivings- and the conversations that accompanied them- in my mind.
November 2024
