I've shared before that Thanksgiving has always been my
Mother’s holiday. As an only child that meant that everyone came to our house
and there was huge excitement. As my parents have gotten older, I now bring the
turkey and sides while my Mom makes her three favorite things and sets the
table.
It is always a dramatic scene trying to get the cooked
turkey to their house, but somehow we always work it out!
When my parents were first married – over 59 years ago
– the story exists about how my Aunt made an apple pie. Now, I am not sure
what went wrong but my mother couldn’t cut the pie. No really, the crust was so
hard that she ended up getting a carving knife for my Dad to do it.
This of course is all while trying to play it off as if
nothing was wrong. It happened before I was born, but the story is still shared
over and over.
There is also the Thanksgiving that my Mother’s goddaughter
was 5 years old and decided that she was only eating peas and pumpkin pie. In
our house, we could care less as long as she ate something. But it was quite a
sight with the peas and pie on the same plate.
My cousin’s wife said that it took years to get used to what
she refers to as, “The Thanksgiving March." If the weather was nice
enough, there was a mandatory walk after dinner, before dessert. Keep in mind,
this was way before my FitBit obsession!
The men would leave the table and go for a walk around the
property. The women would stay back to wash dishes and get the table ready for
dessert. My mother didn’t care about the walk – she wanted them out from
underfoot!
Another reason why (besides the fun family memories) I love
Thanksgiving is because it is a holiday that everyone celebrates in America. We
are taking a day to count our blessings and to say Thanks for all that we have
been given. You know that at the top of
my list is to work with each of you. You are the finest, most caring and
talented group of people. Your selflessness towards each other and our children
is extraordinary.
Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family.
Do you have funny
Thanksgiving stories that you would share? Or something that you’re especially
thankful for?
5 comments:
This memory is fresh in my mind since it happened last night. I was preparing the brine for our 23 pound turkey with my kids. We finally got the bird into the brine bag when the bag tipped over and ALL OF THE BRINE spilled out over the counters, cabinets, drawers, entire kitchen floor, both kids and the cat! The brine even leaked through the floor and into the finished basement. It was just awful - brine spice and liquid was everywhere! After two hours of cleaning it up and washing the cat, I then had to explain the meaning of the curse word, that I apparently yelled during the spill, to my 8 year old son. Fun. Both kids were laughing hysterically this morning and were so happy that I was the one that caused the spill rather than them! I'm sure this will be a memory for them for many years. I hope I'll be able to laugh about it some day too!
Thanksgiving always resonates with me as also celebrating my dad's birthday. He was born on Thanksgiving Day and I keep a story close to heart how I've been told that my grandma put the bird in the oven and then went to the hospital because dad was ready to make his arrival!
I left the sugar out of the pumpkin pie one year and I will never live it down!
Today I am particularly grateful that I read this blog and specifically Stephanie Hand's comment. You see, this year I graduated to the "big kid's table" and instead of bringing the fruit and wine, like I have my entire adult life, I was asked (by my sister, who is practically perfect in every way) to make the pumpkin pie. I'll make sure I don't leave the sugar out. :)
Does anyone else have the turkey dance in the sink, like in the Peter Gabriel "Sledgehammer" video? As I am rinsing it out to get it ready, I always end up dancing a little with it.
Mom and I always eat our favorite parts while we are carving the turkey. (If you like dark meat, the best part are these 2 little medallions along the back, behind the legs.) Actually, none of the best parts make it to the table. We split the heart with Dad, so it is never in the gravy. And Mom and I cook and eat the liver as we prepare the bird for the oven. My brothers wouldn't like those parts anyways. And we will probably never know if my sisters-in-law or nephews or nieces like them, because they will never see them.
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