The first event of the Thanksgiving season was daughter Lise’s arrival. We picked up grandson Nathaniel from college and waited longer than expected to get Lise from the airport. Her flight from Denmark was delayed, making her miss the connection in New York. We were relieved that she was only four hours late getting to Charlotte. We were home by midnight and fell into bed.

The next morning we hurried to pack for the trip to my brother’s home in Winston Salem. Nathaniel deflated the air mattress by lying on it.

Son John $pencer and Rose participated in the mirror ceremony, when Nathaniel moved the hall mirror to a higher hook. He will move it down again when he leaves.

Meal prep was underway when we arrived at Beth and Bob’s house. I took a photo showing a few people, not realizing how many would soon be there. We think there were 23 people to eat this feast on the Saturday before Thanksgiving.

I’ve never seen a group that could mix and mingle as easily as this group did. At one point Lise and niece Julie had a few minutes together on the sofa.

Grandsons David and Nathaniel were joking around near the back door with Grandpa. Nathaniel and cousin Kate modeled their leather jackets, both bought at thrift shops.

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The photo I enjoyed taking the most was one of Lise and Zeke. When I was introduced to Zeke, I knew immediately who he was. Forty-four years ago his sister Mary visited us on Long Island. She was on a missionary trip, raising funds for her work with Wycliff Bible Translators. Mary’s first cousin was Bob’s first wife, who was the one who engineered her visit to us. All these years I remembered her talking about her family. She was the oldest, followed by two boys. When the fourth child was on the way, she set her heart on having a sister. She said she was so angry that another baby boy arrived that she said she was going to call him the ugliest thing she could think of. That name was Zeke. When I retold the story to Zeke, he laughed and said that was just like Mary. He claimed his mother said she was not going to have any more children and nicknamed him Zeke because it began with the last letter of the alphabet. With a twinkle in his eye, he asked if any of us knew his real name. We didn’t. It is William.

I showed Zeke a photo I took of Lise and Mary when she visited in 1977. Of course he recognized his sister, and he was happy to pose with the grown-up version of Lise.

Lise and Zeke won the honor of being the ones who traveled furthest to our gathering. Lise lives in Denmark, and Zeke lives on a sail boat in Seattle, Washington.