Places I've Been

It's Thanksgiving! I love the family-ness of the holiday, and the fact that it's about love and blessings, eating good and watching football, spending time and not being obliged to find a perfect gift for everyone you know. I'm happy to be "home for the holidays" too.

Two years ago, I was hosting Thanksgiving in the 60+ degree California weather. And even though the forecast for the Midwest is calling for above 50 degrees, it feels totally right to be here with that weather prediction. A friend was chastising me for noticing that being in California on a too-warm Thanksgiving was different than being in Wisconsin on an above average weather day. All I could say is that it's just different being here. The contrast is that I'll be in my mother's kitchen, helping her mash potatoes and stirring the gravy. I'm grateful for my mom in ways I can't express.

Home is where the heart is--trite and true (tried and true?) if I do say so myself. Part of my heart stayed in California when I left, but my traditions are here. It's not like my family does anything spectacular for the holidays, but there's a comfort in the routine that we've adopted in that big ol' farmhouse with our big ol' crazy mixed-up family. We are like a bunch of misfits who have found a way to celebrate our differences and enjoy each other's individual backgrounds. There's not one of us who hasn't suffered the loss of an immediate family member. I have three step-brothers, one real brother, and two step-cousins cum step-sisters, a stepfather, and my mother. We are the Millennium Brady Bunch. It's hard to describe how we all fit in as a family!?! From my vantage point in the family, we've collectively lost two fathers, a mother, a sister, a brother, and six grandparents. I'd like to think we've learned to accept the blessings of each other at holiday time. Having a family to reunite with is a good road for all of us to travel. There is a comfort in the familiar faces that come back to join in the prayer led by my dad before each meal we share during the holidays.

While today is the typical Thanksgiving I've grown used to, there are other Turkey Day memories that have wandered to the front of my mind. I spent one year making my traditional Thanksgiving meal for hunters who wanted my husband's restaurant to be open for the holiday. That was interesting. I really didn't need to get up so early to start that meal, but old habits die hard and I found myself among the industrial grade appliances at 6:00 a.m. that morning. I worried and fretted about the preparations for those who are not family, but save for a few minor flubs, that meal was a hit. I hope it's a good memory in their bank of Thanksgivings.

A few Thanksgivings later, after the restaurant was sold, I made a feast at home for some hunting friends who are like family. Trying to be helpful, Jake offered to make the gravy. What?? Oh no, my friend. The gravy is just too important to pass it on to someone who has never done it. I did take the moment to show him how you make good gravy. "Stir fast and pour slow," my mom always said. It works, and he learned fast, and we made a great gravy that day. Glory be to my birthday twin, Jake. I love you like my own brother.

The year after that Thanksgiving, I skipped making the big meal and traveled home to ensconce myself in the kind of day I'm heading for today. The next year I didn't cook either, but I had a turkey in the freezer for a dinner later, like December or January. Little did I know when I bought that turkey that I would prepare it as a mourning dinner. My best friend died before Christmas that year. Her mom and dad, husband and daughter needed friends. I thought a get-together over a good meal would lift all of our spirits, so I invited them over for this. Her 5-year old daughter came and spent the day with me, cooking (well, mostly playing in pie dough). That little girl had some astounding statements that day. That's why that day goes into my Thanksgiving memory bank: Nothing makes you realize your blessings like witnessing a little girl's newfound understanding that her mom won't be reading her anymore bedtime stories. Today I give thanks for years I knew Alissa and pray for Lauren.

Thanksgiving--turned around it reads "giving thanks." The Pilgrims celebrated the harvest, made a feast of the bountiful food that the earth had produced with their hands. It's cool that we still do this, isn't it? I mean, Christmas isn't about Christ anymore. Easter isn't about the Resurrection anymore. Memorial Day and Labor Day have no meaning to most, except it's a long weekend. We've lost a lot of our holiday awe. Thanksgiving stands proudly as a day for joining with those we care about to enjoy a fantastic meal. We are blessed to be able to choose the foods we want to prepare in abundance for those we love the most. We are lucky to be in the greatest country in the entire world! No matter the disappointments, we have much to give thanks for today.

I need to pick up dinner rolls. My crabby mother is feeling pushed and shoved from a too-busy week, and is peeved that her house isn't decorated. I just assured her that we don't come over to see her house. I need to get that green bean casserole put together too. I know when I come through the door and ask how everyone is, my step-dad will get that silly look on his face and tell me that my mother has been eating crab salad this morning. It'll be good to be home, and by the time we are putting spoons in the hand painted bowls filled with potatoes, dressing, corn, and yams, my mother will be smiling and relaxed.