tunica-riverpark

Every year, as Thanksgiving Day approaches, I begin to savor the thought of loads of food. However, my dreams of turkey and pecan pies are quickly disturbed by visions of my nieces and nephews running through the house screaming, my father’s suggestions that he worked harder for a living “back in the day,” my sister’s emotional outbursts about not being mom’s favorite, and my grandma’s incessant requests for me to sing her favorite song, “Islands in the Stream” (I am no Kenny Rogers).