A Tale of Many Thanksgivings
This week I’m focused on Thanksgiving. The menu, the guests, and the start of the hustle and bustle of the holiday season are all at the forefront of my mind. But I’m taking a break from all of the planning to reflect on how this holiday has changed for me over the years, and to recall fond memories from the past. It’s interesting to look back at the Thanksgivings of my childhood, the Thanksgivings during married life with small children, and then to look to the future and try to imagine how this holiday will play out with my adult children and their families (when that time comes). What memories will they hold on to, what traditions will they keep, and how will they make this holiday their own?
We have a very small family. It’s just me and my sister in our immediate family, and since my mom was an only child and my dad wasn’t that close with his sister, we typically spent the holidays with just my grandmother, Cecelia. We called her Grammie. Grammie would come down on the train from New Jersey, and we couldn’t wait for her to arrive. l can still picture her sitting in the kitchen, sipping her coffee, chatting with us as we prepared dinner. Inevitably my mom would tell the story of when my sister was born. Her birthday is on November 25th, and in 1971 that was Thanksgiving Day. Weighing in at 5 pounds, 14 ounces, she was smaller than the turkey.
We always dressed up not because we were going anywhere special, but because my mom wanted us to look nice. I didn’t really understand this as a kid, but now I do the exact same thing with my family. It simply feels good to have everyone looking their best at the table, enjoying the food you worked so hard to prepare. We used the silver, the crystal, the china, and had champagne. Even though it was just our family for Thanksgiving, my parents made it special. It was imperative that we were together. Sitting here today I guess that’s what I am most thankful for this year; that my parents worked hard to make the holidays a priority, and instilled in me how important we are to each other.
There’s only one time I can remember that we didn’t spend Thanksgiving at home. We were invited to my best friend’s house for dinner, and we were thrilled because her mom was a great cook. She made sweet potatoes with huge, fluffy marshmallows on top, and right before she served them, she lit the whole thing on fire (to toast the marshmallows of course). It was quite a sight and it’s something I’ll never forget.
Now that I have my own family, we have adopted traditions that are unique to us. We usually start our day with a 3.1 mile race that our city calls the Turkey Trot, and we always watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. Even though I pride myself on being a good cook, we have Stovetop stuffing from the box. My husband wouldn’t have it any other way. We would never leave mashed potatoes off the menu (that would be a legit crime) and this year our new addition is macaroni and cheese.
For some of us, the holidays are taxing. Some years don’t you just feel like just cancelling them altogether? My husband’s grandmother actually did this- one year she just stopped celebrating Thanksgiving and never looked back. I totally get it. But this year I’m not feeling that way at all. I’m grateful that my parents will be joining us this year. I’m thankful that my children still want to come home for the holidays. And I’m hopeful that we will still have many more years to make memories to add to the ones already in my heart.
