Maybe reflecting on the year everyday in December will become a new tradition for me. I’m diggin’ it so far. You know who else is diggin’ it? My girl, Kim. Check her out and then join in the fun!
Day 8: What traditions did you observe this year? Did you start any new ones?
I was hoping for a prompt that was appropriate for my most recent Thanksgiving and here it is.
Thanksgiving has never really been a favorite holiday of mine. It is a day that revolves so strongly around food which can be a trigger for me. But that’s not really the thing. The thing is that all that food the day revolves around? Yeah, I just don’t love it. Turkey? Meh. Stuffing? I used to hate it. I’ve come around on it slightly. (Why celery? Seriously. How much flavor could that stringy little nutritional void provide? Blech!) Butternut squash? It’s a vegetable. How exciting can it be?
Now, Christmas….Christmas is a different story. Christmas with my family means a delicious roast (mmm….red meat…and I do mean red), twice baked potatoes, cauliflower with cheese sauce? Christmas cookies? Are you kidding me? SIGN ME UP!
Thanksgiving food? Not so much. So I’ve never really gotten too jazzed for it. Now, before you judge me for saying Thanksgiving is all about food, check yourself. I know what it SHOULD be about. It SHOULD be about family and being grateful for the blessings the Big Guy has bestowed on each of us. And it is. But the food…
This year, though, was a different story. This year was a perfect storm of all great things “Thanksgiving.” My dad got sick the week before. Like, really, really, life threateningly sick. My sister and I called his room, my mom, and each other 20 times a day. Should we go? Should we wait? My parents live in Connecticut so while we were both driving up, we hadn’t planned to go until the following week. By Thursday morning, he had turned a good corner, but I HAD to go. Had to. I couldn’t just sit waiting for updates. I couldn’t listen to my mom tell me all she had to eat that day was a bagel. I needed to be there, so Friday I hopped a plane and went. Best decision ever.
We brought him home from the hospital that night and my mom and I got busy taking care of him (read: telling him to SIT DOWN. NO WE DON’T NEED YOU TO DO ANYTHING!) and prepping for Thanksgiving. We had family coming in from the Boston area and there would be 13 of us on Thanksgiving Day. My mom is a planner. It’s where I get it. So we planned. We made lists. We prepared. My dad laughed at us. I’m fairly certain he thinks Thanksgiving is brought to us by fairies, but whatever.
Tuesday, my sister, her family, my husband and my cousin all arrived at my parents’. Fun ensued. Laughter, love, liquor. It’s how we roll. Four o’clock is happy hour and Ginzo better have a drink in her hand. Appetizers enough to feed a mall militia. We do it up.
Thanksgiving day, we followed tradition by heading to my godparents’ house in the morning. There is a giant 4.78 mile road race in my home town and my godparents live on the route. Every year we are in CT, we go there for danishes, fruit salad, coffee, hot chocolate and a prime spot to watch the race. Some years some of us run. Some years we all just chill. This year, Kate, Mark, Sam and Caleb all ran. I cheered. And ate a danish – but just one – so I win, right?
The family coming into town was my mom’s cousin, Lorraine, her husband, Uncle Bo, and their kids, who are all around my age. This is the first time we’ve all spent Thanksgiving together but it is safe to say it won’t be the last. It was THE. BEST. THANKSGIVING. EVER.
I can’t pinpoint why exactly. Maybe it’s just that we’re all so close. Maybe it’s that happy hour started at 1:00pm. Maybe it’s that we were all a little more thankful this year. It’s been a HARD year, but here we were, together, and so relieved my dad was there to enjoy it with us.
I’ve never had a more perfect holiday. We have lots of traditions, but we started a new one this year for sure:
These exact people around a table on Thanksgiving.
Ok, ok…the turkey can come too.