November is so special to me and my family. It is a month of traditions, heartfelt memories and plenty of laughter as we all toss about the turkey and pumpkin pies. It’s a time when I personally connect with my cousins, aunts, uncles and friends to remember the old stories and hear of new ones. Thanksgiving dinner would not be complete without my notebook and my pens. They are just as important as the mashed potatoes and the cornbread stuffing. My grandparents on both, my mother’s side and my father’s side, were vivid storytellers. My father was the best storyteller, in my opinion. He could recite a story from his grandfather with such enthusiasm that your senses would come alive with every word. My father unknowingly, was a historian and a hobby genealogist. His memory was filled with dates and oral history that would have filled many books on a shelf. One of the things I truly regret is not having a recording of my father. He was such a talented man, strong-willed and determined. If given a chance to go back to yesterday, I would have grabbed my cassette player and recorded Daddy telling his stories and playing his bluegrass music. My grandparents and parents are long gone now, but they still live as we look back and remember.

Other things may change our course, but we all start and end with family


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