A hand sewn table runner ran the length of mom’s festive Thanksgiving table. Her best china, crystal and Damask napkins adorned each place setting; and a colorful fall floral arrangement served as the centerpiece. She had spent considerable time setting the table, it was beautiful; but my eyes were focused on two items and two items only.
“I can’t believe you still have this mom!”
“This turkey salt and pepper set. I loved them as a kid. When you die, I want them.”
They showed signs of use and painted areas on the glazed ceramic had vanished with age, and certainly these shakers would never pair with my contemporary dishes. It didn’t matter, I was laying claim to childhood memories. Each shake given from the salt and pepper turkeys were times remembered around the family dinner table.
As we sat for dinner my sister immediately noticed the turkey shakers. Her conversation with mom was a repeat of my earlier one.
“I can’t believe you still have this mom!”…
I was quick to interrupt and state my claim to the shakers. I continued with, “
“After dinner I am writing my name on the bottom of each turkey with a permanent marker.”
We both laughed and I conceded she could have the pepper shaker and me the salt shaker. It was a pact made in blood (just kidding) with an agreement to reunite our shakers every Thanksgiving in remembrance of the wonderful childhood memories we have shared over a dinner table.
My sister and I will one day depart this life but not without our turkey shakers. They will adorn our family table at the dinner of all dinners; the Marriage Supper of the Lamb of God. My daddy, mom, sister and I (and turkey shakers) eternally reunited; making new memories at a celebration hosted by God.