Thanksgiving.....

We set aside one day a year to "give thanks" and kick-off the holiday season for Christmas, and it seems that every year the retail stores begin the kick-off a little earlier...now starting right around Halloween. Somehow, I just think they are missing the whole point.

When I was growing up, Thanksgiving still meant "over the river and through the woods... to Grandmothers house we go". And that's exactly what we did. It was tradition that we spend it at my Grandparents house in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Ok, not quite the woods, but still the same location for many years. She would rise early, stuff the turkey and get it in the oven so that by the time we all arrived, it was pretty much ready to eat. This used to make my Mother upset, as she always wanted to be there to help her Mother with the preparations... after all, there were six adults and eight children.... so it meant a lot of work had to be prepped. Even though the turkey was ready, we started with a table full of hors d'oeuvres first. This included a vegetable and olive arrangement, and many other delectables that would fill you up without ever getting to the main course.... all prepped and set out by Grammy.

The diningroom table was already set up.... china plates (the good ones) and cloth napkins (because Grammy didn't believe in paper on such occasions), and silverware were all in place. Glasses were ready to fill (milk for the kids, wine for the adults and diet ginger ale for Grammy), as well as all the serving pieces lined up ready for duty. Then, as usual in our family, we started with the beginner course: pasta.... usually gnoccies made by hand by Grammy. No meal ever started without pasta first, and of course salad and real Italian bread that Grandpa pick up in the north end of Boston the day before. When the pasta bowls were cleared, it was time for turkey. With carving knife in place, the turkey didn't stand a chance. Everyone had their favorite, mine being dark meat... and believe it or not, there were some squabbles over who would get the tail end. Assortments of vegetables, cranberry sauce ( a must) , gravy ( plenty of it) and starches were squeezed in on the table amongst everything else. Since their table was small, only eight people could fit at a sitting... so all the little kids (my cousins and myself) had to eat at the "kids" table.... well in view of the adults, so they were able to keep an eye on us if we got a little rowdy. My two oldest brothers were able to sit at the adult table... a spot we all yearned for.

After the feast was consumed, it was time for Grammy to start coffee, while either my Aunt or Mother set the plates for dessert. In the meantime, when we were old enough, my cousin and I would start washing the dishes. Since space at Grammy's was not a premium, we couldn't just stack them, and a real dishwasher did not exist in their kitchen. We were considered the "dishwasher". The adult men would still be around the table, discussing the politics or problems of the time, while the rest of the children would scatter to the livingroom to watch whatever came up on the black and white TV (only 3 channels then). Once the coffee was brewed, desserts layed out on a platter, it was time to reassemble and fight over who would get a cannoli... and there never seemed to be enough of them.
Since my Grammy shared her birthday, as well as wedding anniversary with Thanksgiving, you'd almost expect that there'd be some kind of cake to celebrate the occasion, but no... she opted for Italian pastries, and then only could eat just a smige of that as she had diabetes.

By the time the complete feast was over, it was late into the night. Considering we started somewhere around two in the afternoon, it made for a long day. Since we were traveling from Connecticut, we stayed overnight, and my Dad set up plans to take my brothers out to Boston for sightseeing the next day, while the ladies (Grammy, Mom and me) went to visit some of Grammys friends. My Aunt, Uncle and cousins lived close by, so they just drove home.

In 1978, my Grandparents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. Plans were made to have a big party to celebrate, and they were to hold it at a nice restaurant with all family members and friends. My Mother had gone out and bought a new suit to wear for the occasion, and dropped it off at the dry cleaners to soften it out a bit. It would be my job to pick it up for her. The week before the actual event, my Mother was rushed to the hospital because of breathing problems. Needless to say, my end of the family could not attend the big celebration, which really ended up hurting a lot of peoples feelings. We were just too worried about Mom, because by now, she had suffered a stroke as well. We couldn't put a damper on the party by telling everyone... so it was a precarious place to be in. She would eventually pass away on Thanksgiving.... and we buried her in her new suit. We were to never hold another Thanksgiving as a whole family again.

Ever since then, I've probably only had a few real Thanksgiving celebrations. I mostly opted to work, or spend the day alone, in my kitchen baking cookies. I turn on the Christmas tunes and dedicate the day to Mom and the lemon butter cookies that she so painstakingly taught me how make. It's her day, and I don't feel to comfortable doing much else. It's also the day that makes me grow large lumps in my throat, while I choke back the tears, and remember what it is like to be thankful of all I learned, and thankful of all I have.

So, my point.... all of this is too short: life, laughter and the pursuit of true happiness. Putting out Christmas decorations may be a necessity for some, but giving thanks is what the day is truly for... Christmas will come soon enough, and life will fly by fast enough. Being appreciative of all that there is before us, should be a premium in our lives.... and I try to remember that everyday, as my parents taught me.