Thankful
by Lauren Jonik “Please carry this in and give it to Nana — carefully,” my mother instructed when handing me the aluminum foil covered cherry pie she had baked. Leaves crackled beneath my feet as I walked up the stone driveway, past my grandfather’s rose bushes now dormant, to the front door of the home he built. The combined scent of turkey, pumpkin pie and coleslaw greeted me as I entered. As a child, the last Thursday in November meant…