Thanksgiving seems to officially kick off the “holiday season”, no matter whether that season for you means Christmas, Hanukah or Kwanza. It’s a season where many people in America do celebrate food in all its glory. It is also a time where people can feel overwhelmed by the busyness of life. Besides the everyday things that we all have to do: work, school, family, home, now there is shopping for gifts, decorating of houses, and extra cooking to be done. Life is harried enough without the extra burdens that the holidays put upon us.
Besides the shopping and cooking, holidays may mean you have to travel somewhere that is not your current home, with all the burdens that entail, such as: food for the festivities, food for the children who won’t eat the festivity food, extra clothing for the children so that when you finally get them home, you don’t have to change them again and can just toss them in bed (I’m lucky in this respect in that my son is 19 and I no longer have to carry his dead sleeping weight in from the car anymore).
This year my mother hosted Thanksgiving because Papa (my dad) is in a nursing home, and it’s easiest to bring him there. This was to be a small gathering for our family; there would only be nine of us.
I, well, I just didn’t want to go. There were other things I had to do. Three papers, a costume design, and (duhng duh dun) math are on my plate. Besides homework, there are reviews to do, dishes to be washed, clothes to be cleaned, and my bedroom is a disaster. In short, life continues and the thought of traveling 1 1/2 hours each way to eat turkey just didn’t make me very thankful.
I couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse to appease my guilty conscience though, so I dutifully made myself ready, and packed plenty of homework to work on during the journey and as a reason to “escape the festivities.” Soon after arrival at my mother’s though, my attitude was transformed. She had worked diligently at making the house as festive as I remembered from childhood, the windows sparkled with lights and the winter village had been set up across the counter. Shelves overflowed with the hundreds of Santas that have been given as presents to her over the years by myself and my four siblings. My brother Charlie’s nutcracker collection covered the corner table in the living room. My mom had not decorated in years because one of us kids had taken over hosting our parties, and she said “Why decorate when no one is going to see it but me?” Dishes of food in different stages of preparation cluttered the counters, the stove, and any available space that was beyond the dog’s reach. The kitchen bustled with activity and Christmas carols rang through the air. I had forgotten how magical the house I grew up in could become. What else could I do but jump in and help finish preparing the food?
Once everything was ready (several hours after we had actually planned on eating, as usual) the nine of us gathered at the table set with the good china. Space had been made so that Papa in his wheelchair could once again sit where he had for more than thirty years at the head of the table. Grace was said, the devouring of the feast began. Talk began about things going on in our lives. Alex was talking to Beth about school, and my mom asked her a question. Beth ignored Mom and continued listening to Alex. Mom asked again. Beth didn’t pay attention.
My mother looks at me and says, “She’s ignoring me.” Beth finally recognizes Mom with, “I’m talking with Alex!” “Yes, and I’m trying to interrupt!” To which my dear sister says, “Which is why I’m ignoring you!” This causes the everyone to erupt in hysterical laughter.
Once everyone could breathe again, all previous topics were forgotten and the talk wandered to past occasions when we were all sitting around the table. The time Jim ate 30 pancakes, Beth choking on a hot dog and being flipped upside down by Papa and how far it flew across the kitchen. There are so many memories in that room where we ate as a family every night, until we grew up and moved away. There were plenty of fights, don’t get me wrong, but we all remember the laughter. I don’t know who started it this year, but it being Thanksgiving, we all acknowledged things that we are thankful for. Mashed potatoes and green bean casserole were even mentioned. I know that there are many many things that I have to be thankful for, not the least of which is that not only do I have a loving, supportive family, but we all actually like each other and get along. With all of us leading busy lives, sometimes it takes food to bring us together to make more memories. So this holiday season, I’m going to try not to stress, and remember to celebrate the food.