Bigwig posts about talking to Trey and the ritual of mealtime prayer.
My sister and I each had a mealtime recitation as part of our pre-consumption duties when we were kids. I would go first, reciting something that sounded vaguely like what Bigwig posted, except I think “good” and “great” were juxtaposed and the word “plate” made an appearance somewhere.
My sister then followed with her prayer, which was another common rhyming number that I don’t remember a word of.
What I remember the most even now is my grandfather, a church deacon for longer than I’ve been alive, who handles the mealtime prayers at all family gatherings as he has always done. His intonation starts out formally, as though he’s asking to be recognized by the chair at a VFW meeting, but quickly resolves into the familiar conversational burr-and-growl he uses when telling a good fishing story. He and God have a chat, talk about the grandkids and what’s for dinner that day, discuss the weather, mention the packed house, and then sign off. It’s all very comfortable. You get the sense that they’ve been having these talks for awhile now; long enough that both know what the other will say most of the time.
I don’t really have anywhere to go with this conclusion that isn’t somehow trite; it’s just a memory that bubbled up from the South Dakota files.
