This was the day never planned for. Heck, it hadn’t even been thought of. It was a red letter day for sure — the day I had to decide to put my Super Grandmam cape into storage, along with numerous others.

The time has come for this exhausted, old great- grandma to move over and let the next generation have all the fun, create all the memories and experience the pure joy.

This Thanksgiving was a first in many ways for me. First, they didn’t ask, but rather told me that I wouldn’t be hostessing it this year for the first time in at least 50 years. Instead the plan was for all the Alabama family to drive to Hillsboro, Tenn., to start a new tradition.

Seriously, I tried to accept this news gracefully and remained calm, despite a sadness that crept its way into my very being. Gracefully, I conceded and agreed. It was a sorrowful and melancholy admission that they were right.

The Energizer Bunny had finally run down. The upcoming generations have the energy, motivation and wherewithal to do what my body flatly refuses to do any longer.

Of course, they did everything differently than was my custom. I simply closed my eyes and, as courageously as was possible, forged ahead.

They had a turkey cookoff of sorts — 3 deep fried and one roasted. Each of the four cooks took great pride in their finished dish. I missed the dressing that, apparently, didn’t get assigned to anyone.

There was more than ample food from snacks, appetizers and nibblers beforehand to an enormous display of desserts. The huge variety of sides took up most of the kitchen.

There were people everywhere stabbing bites on paper plates, laughing wholeheartedly and talking animatedly.

It dawned on me that despite most of my life being the youngest adult present, I was now the oldest — and without my companion of nearly 60 years. It was lonely. Such is the life of a matriarch, but hey, this is the season currently facing me headlong.

But alas, I had a plan. Previously, I had arranged to have four of my great grandchildren from Thanksgiving through Sunday. Oh, the fun-o-meter had been set high — at least until I took another nasty fall the day before.

Don’t ask me what happened, because it’s unexplainable. One minute I was prepping a Thanksgiving dish and the next I was falling backward like an oak tree after somebody had yelled “Timber!” Of course, I re-injured the wound recently inflicted on myself and added a thump to the floor with my melon. There may have been stars in the kitchen at that point.

We arrived home Thanksgiving evening tired, exhausted and still stuffed. We got ready for bed and found a Christmas movie and popcorn for accompaniment.

The next day, a large pine tree was removed from my yard (prescheduled) and the boys, ages 9, 10 and 13 earned their keep as they helped their uncle remove and haul brush, pine needles and cones. I took a nap, and we ordered pizzas for dinner followed by more movies.

On Saturday, the three youngest, ages 5, 9 and 10, decorated my Christmas tree while I took another nap. They are so proud of themselves. I’m not moving a thing, even if there is a two foot section with all the plastic icicles hung like a neatly darned hole in a sock leaving most of the tree barren. Charlie Brown would be proud.

I taught them how to make a gigantic nacho for dinner, followed by more movies and popcorn.

I was ready for another nap.

Sunday morning, parents came to my rescue. Woohoo! I was saved from myself. It was like the anticipation of Christmas morning — for me anyway.

In the past, Thanksgiving and the days following have been chocked full of fun things to do. There was a time when I spent weeks making preparations for all our activities.

This Grandmam still adores children, especially her own, but after this experience, my Super Grandmam cape will take its place next the Super Gardener, Super Dancer, Super Cook, Super Housekeeper, Super Seamstress and about a dozen other capes. My closet is filling up quickly.

There may be a special sale coming up for some of them since I’m running out of space.

What’s your superpower? Mine is now admitting that mine are dwindling at an accelerated pace.

Please, excuse me while I tune into “The Andy Griffith Show” and do me a favor. Please, stuff a big red apple in my mouth if I have any more bright ideas. A little time in Mayberry wouldn’t hurt any of us, and the big apple would be greatly appreciated.