Once again, TGIF!
I’ve been spending a considerable amount of time on Gather lately trying to get a better feel for what people are writing about and discussing. I’ve found many posts discussing the state of the economy, the state of the war, politics in general, the price of gas (although it is coming down), wall street, money issues, family pressures, health issues, breakups, problems with neighbors or friends… lots of stress and dissatisfaction- understandably so.
It's good to vent those emotions and writing is a good way to do it, but sometimes I really crave an uplifting story. I don’t know about you, but I sure could use some good news and warm thoughts right about now.
This is the last Friday before Thanksgiving. I’m not going to ask people to write about what they’re thankful for or what’s for dinner that day. Some of you may not even celebrate Thanksgiving. But for those of you that do, can you share a memory or tradition or just something about the day that you particularly enjoy? And for those of you that don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, it would be nice to read about any specials traditions or memories you’d like to share.
I’ll start.
When I was a child, my mother always got up early on Thanksgiving Day to stuff the turkey and get it in the oven. (We always had our dinner in early afternoon). I loved to get up with her and help her in the kitchen while my three sisters lazed in bed. Before I was old enough to be of much real help, I’d watch her every move in awe- hoping I’d remember enough to be “promoted” the next year. I sat with her as she peeled potatoes, and I helped dot sliced yams with butter and brown sugar. I usually helped polish the silver that morning, and took great pride in blackening the soft cloth- proving beyond any doubt that I was doing a good job. I loved spending this time with my mom- it made me feel special that she trusted me to help prepare the meal and set the table with a white linen cloth and her treasured china plates for this special occasion.
When we’d finished the early morning preparations, I’d go into the living room and watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on television. The big balloons were always my favorite; floating high in the sky, guided by seemingly tiny men on the ground holding thin guide ropes. Felix 
the Cat, Underdog, Dino the Dinosaur, Snoopy… I loved them all as I watched them float between tall buildings down 34th street in New York City.
The house would begin to fill with wonderful aromas as the hours passed, and I’d return to the kitchen repeatedly to offer my assistance, my stomach rumbling in anticipation of the feast we would soon consume. The dinner was always wonderful as my mom was a great cook, but it was the preparation that sticks in my mind as the real joy of the day.
Many years later, I now have my own daughter to help me in the kitchen, and I cherish that time with her as I did with my mom—just the two of us working together, sometimes in silence, sometimes laughing or sneaking a taste of something yummy. The TV will be on in the family room and my daughter will wander out there to keep an eye on the parade. And I’ll look at her and hope she'll remember the day as fondly as I will. God willing, some day she’ll have a chance to create this special bond with her own daughter.
And that’s enough to make make me feel very thankful.
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Comments: 28
Thank you.
Of course, I remember much the same scene but with a slight twist. I have ten brothers and sisters, and Thanksgiving was an industrial affair. Even though it was the 50's and early 60's, there was no distinction of gender for the assignment of duties. Everyone was expected to pitch in.
Where gender made the difference was behavior.
While mom and the girls acted out the bonding scene that you so touchingly portrayed, the boys snapped through their duties then occupied much of the rest of the day by making forays into the kitchen to snatch what they could and run for safety.
There was much hollering, scolding, and well aimed objects flying through the air.
Ah, family.
No doubt, the food is a huge part of the celebration, but I try to balance out the menu so we're not all in a catatonic stupor for the rest of the day.
I have no brothers, so there was no gender to distinguish- I'm sure my dad was banned from the kitchen to keep him from being underfoot and prevent constant food sampling before dinner.
Sounds like a wild and fun time at the Schiller house. What exactly did you get clobbered with anyway?
It is hard to be precise; enumeration is difficult since there were so many objects in flight. I can only say that the older girls had a preference for sharp objects, while the boys tossed furniture. The youngest simply launched anything that came to hand.
My parents refused to participate in such violent childish behavior, though they were willing to put forth the odd comment on technique and follow-through.
My family always gets together......everyone who can......on Thanksgiving.
We all cook and prepare the dishes so that one of us doesn't have to do all the work. This year I am cooking the cranberries, baking two mince pies and preparing the candied yams.
The Macy's parade has always been a huge part of our family tradition. Somehow it always makes you feel like a kid again!
Happy Holidays Everyone! xxx
Hmm, I never tried Thanksgiving in P.J's- sounds fun!
Bree is on the mend- still having pain, but less frequently. Thanks for asking.
That's cool to honor your grandmother that way.
Then we heard the Mumbai news.
So our Thanksgiving here was bittersweet.