The Lord is good to me and so I thank the Lord, for giving me the things I need the sun, and the rain, and the appleseed. The Lord is good to me.

This is the prayer we sang before every family meal. Grandma, Grandpa, Aunt Rita, Uncle Jim, Cousins Nancy, Joe, Amy and Mary, Mom, Dad, and my sister Jana.

Sometimes the three Aunts -- Anna, Mary, and Laura -- maiden sisters of my grandfather, would join us. Sometimes Edna White or Katie Lane, friends of my grandmother. Eventually my wife and children learned the song.

I can vaguely recall a time when Grandpa said a grace instead of us singing, but that is very vague. At some point the final hallelujahs from Handel's Messiah were added.

We were a family of singers. It was a house-filling, home-making sound. It was a joyful thanksgiving.

Grandma, Grandpa, Rita, Jim, and Joe have died. My Dad has lost his voice. We do not gather as we once did. But last Thanksgiving Cousin Mary brought her boyfriend to meet my Mom, Dad, and me. Mary, Mom, and I were a remnant, but an enthusiastic remnant.