Barb was a nurse and had to work on the Thanksgiving Day. We lived close enough to my job that my daily driver was a bicycle. So we owned only one car. She took it with her. After she had gone to work our five daughters and I made a grocery list. Evie, the oldest, was 15. She and I made several trips to the grocery store with a motorcycle to purchase a turkey, potatoes, pie filling, salad and all the trimmings that make a successful Thanksgiving Dinner.
Thirty-six years have passed since that day, so the only thing I recall about that day was the smile on Barb’s face when she came home.