I usually take the week of Thanksgiving off to catch up on things that I need to get done.  This year was no different.  I spent each day doing some sort of chore, cleaning, or going to appointments.  I increased the daily walks with my dog from three to five and one day even six.  I was hired to make a baby shower cake, which was to be delivered on Friday morning, the day after Thanksgiving.  I had the whole week planned out, of course working around Thanksgiving dinner and all the things that go along with preparing for it.

All the people we thought were going to show up didn’t.  Mom was crushed, especially since these people missed her birthday, then mother’s day and now Thanksgiving.  She’s starting to say things like “This could be my last (fill in holiday here).  I don’t like the guilt of that statement, nor do I believe this will be her last anything.  People should come because they want to come, not because they feel they have to.  In the end, it’s always me that cares for my parents.  I just accept it because I really do care.  So, that left mom and I alone for Thanksgiving.  I couldn’t get a last minute dinner reservation anywhere.  The few places that were actually open on Thanksgiving were booked solid.  I could tell mom was down about the day so I opted to just drive around and see if we could find a place.  It might not have been a typical Thanksgiving for us, but we made the best of it by having dinner at the only place open.. Denny’s!  Mom had fish and chips, I had grilled cheese.  Mom couldn’t take her eyes off a girl in the next table who was tattooed from shoulder to wrist on both arms.  It was a first for both of us and we made the best of it.  I’ll never forget it.

I had already pre-made the cake for the baby shower but now it was time to decorate it.  Mom, in her day, was a cake-decorating fanatic.  She was the doll-cake queen.  I asked her if she would like to help me decorate.  What unfolded in front of my eyes was nothing less than an unexpected miracle.  Mom quickly said yes to helping me and we started talking while mixing colors for the cake.  Mom started to pull out the decorating tips and with each tip came a story about a certain cake she’d made in the past.  I started to decorate the cake and mom insisted she decorate the ruffle.  I agreed.  The moment she picked up the decorating bag she morphed back in time to when she used to decorate.  Her hands moved in a fashion I haven’t seen since I was a kid.  She was like a professional who was consumed with her craft.  She became serious and concentrated intently at the ruffle.  It had to be perfect and she told me to move away from the table so I wouldn’t bang it by accident.  Normally that request wouldn’t have sat well with me (after all, it was my project), but I just let her go to town and moved back a few steps.  Even she was amazed at how easily her hands glided back and forth in perfect harmony.  I just kept looking at her knowing I was catching a glimpse of a moment in time.  I really enjoyed how she proudly glowed with satisfaction.  I even listened to her words of wisdom when she went over all my decorating techniques that needed correction.

It was a Flashback that I was lucky enough to witness, and enjoy.  Thanksgiving may have had a different spin on it this year, but the Flashback was totally worth it.