Reflections of Thanksgiving

It's late November in the Midwest. There's a chill in the air and you can't walk without crunching the fallen leaves under your feet. At this point of the year, most of the trees are bare. Only a few are still holding onto their leaves, and those will be gone as well before much longer. A forecast of rain will most likely wash the leaves from their branches. Pumpkins and brightly colored indian corn decorate many homes. Candles glow from windows now that the evening creeps upon us earlier.

Next week is Thanksgiving. The holiday season is upon us! Christmas decorations have been in stores for a few weeks now, as have holiday sale advertisements on television. It's time to start writing lists and coming up with a gameplan for the next month and a half. Parties to plan, goodies to bake, gifts to shop for. It can be both exciting and overwhelming!

One thing that I like to do this time of year is to reflect and remember how I spent the holidays as a child. This year, I will try to post some reflections of the past here on this blog as a way of reminiscing about days gone by. Today, I will talk about Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving has always been the "start" of the holiday season for me. Growing up, it was the first in a series of celebrations lasting through New Year's Day. When I was very young, I would help my Grandma Ethel in the kitchen. Well, I didn't really help her, but she made me think that I did. Each year, she would make a giant turkey. After she washed it and prepared it for the roasting pan, I would pat it and give it a kiss. Yep. I would kiss a raw turkey. I can imagine many people squirming at that notion, but I assure you...I never had a case of salmonella or anything else due to my kissing the cold, pimply turkey skin!

After my Grandma Ethel passed away, we would have Thanksgiving at my dad's parents' house. Grandma would fix a big turkey in an electric roaster. She would have the meal laid out as in a buffet style because there were so many of us (4 sets of aunts and uncles and 9 grandkids. We would have mashed potatoes and green bean casserole. She would fix dressing...but it was always too mushy and runny. You always wanted to be one of the first to go through the line so that you could spoon out some dressing from along the edges, because that was where it was drier! Grandma would almost always burn the rolls, too. What with so many people running around the kitchen, that's hardly a surprise! The turkey gravy...well, in my opionion...really wasn't gravy. It was more like broth with chunks of turkey meat in it. It was clear and liquidy...not thick and creamy. So you'd load up your plate and splash a little gravy/broth over your mashed potatoes and turkey...because the turkey - especially the white meat - was usually a bit dry (unlike the dressing). If you had any room in your stomach after you ate lunch, the desserts would be calling your name. My aunt would make a chocolate eclair dessert (to die for). Grandma would have a variety of pies: pumpkin, pecan, peanut butter...and maybe an angelfood cake. The whole clan would stuff themselves silly! The grown-ups would linger at the table, sipping their coffee and chatting. My Uncle Alan would tackle washing the dishes. Us kids would run around (I'm not sure where we got all that energy) and play in the playroom or, if it was warm enough, outdoors. The men would make their way into the living room to watch football. The women sat at the table and would play euchre or some other game.

Usually, the next day (Friday), mom would make "our" Thanksgiving meal. Grandpa Ralph would come over to join us (he would normally go to his sister's the day before), and he would always bring a bottle of homemade wine. Mom would make a turkey, mashed potatoes, REAL gravy (not the broth stuff), dressing (that wasn't runny!), sweet potatoes, rolls, and homemade cranberry salad. For me and my brother, she would open up a can of jellied cranberry sauce, since we didnt' care for the homemade stuff. We would all sit around our big dining table, which was draped in a nice tablecloth. As a kid, I would have a tiny glass of wine...much smaller than the adults. One year, I remember, Grandpa had made a cranberry wine. Now that was delicious! I have never had a wine as good as the homemade wine Grandpa would make.

Throughout my childhood, Thanksgiving was typically the same, year after year. One year, however, we had a bad snowstorm. Instead of making the trek to my grandparents' house, which was about a 30 minute drive in good weather, my parents bundled my brother and I up and we went to their house the night before. I remember waking up to the smell of Grandma's turkey roasting in the oven. Looking out the window, there was a crisp and clean blanket of snow covering everything. It was magical. My cousins came over soon after, since they lived on the same block. That year, we got to spend extra time together playing, having fun, and eating lots of turkey!

I am thankful for those memories of Thanksgivings past. This year, I plan on making memories for my own family, including my brother-in-law and my nephews and niece. Perhaps in 20 years, they'll look back on this Thanksgiving and smile, just as I do with my own Thanksgiving memories.

"Oh the Lord's been good to me, and so I thank the Lord, for giving me the things I need: the sun and the rain and the appleseeds. The Lord's been good to me! " ~ John "Johnny Appleseed" Chapman