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Next Thursday, we’ll be celebrating my favorite holiday. It’s that because there isn’t the overblown display of decorations, the extended period of anticipation, running around shopping for gifts, and all the other things which surround the other holidays between the end of October and the beginning of January.
Thanksgiving is a quieter, less flashy kind of day. Yes, there is hard work in preparation, and there is food shopping needed and the stores get a little crazy at times, but the day itself, is a calmer, more reflective day to celebrate.
Remembering back when I was growing up, there were some great things I can remember in celebrating Thanksgiving. I remember Mom getting up around 1:00 am and making the stuffing, then getting the turkey seasoned before she stuffed it, then putting it in the oven and a low heat, at about 2:00 am so it would roast slowly, and when we woke up, the house was already filled with the wonderful, yet torturing, aroma of that stuffed bird. It was wonderful because we knew how delicious it would taste, and torturing because we still had hours to go before we would get to eat it. Growing up with everyone living under one roof, it was usually just the immediate family for dinner. We all pitched in and helped do something, be it a chore like dusting or vacuuming, or straightening up, or washing some fruit, maybe peeling potatoes, whatever Mom told us to do in preparation for the Feast. As all this was taking place, the television was on with the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in the background of our getting ready.
From Dad to Little Brother, Tom, we all were a part of getting ready for Thanksgiving Dinner. We didn’t complain, partly because the participation helped pass the time more quickly, so the wait to sit down to dinner didn’t seem as long as it would be if we just sat, smelled, and waited.
When it was time to set the table, we had different jobs, as some of us assembled the table settings, with one of us laying the plates, one in charge of silverware, making sure the napkins, forks, knives and spoons were laid in their proper places, while some placed the glasses. Mom was busy in the kitchen, Dad sometimes carved the bird, a couple of us cutting notches in the chestnuts and getting them ready to be put in the oven about two-thirds of the way through dinner, and the rest of us grabbing anything else that the table needed to be complete (a large bowl with fruit and nuts to be picked on after dinner, some getting out the nutcrackers and pickers, some grabbing the salt and pepper, bread and butter etc., some in the kitchen getting out the gravy boats then placing them on the table after they were filled, and anything else that needed to be placed on the table).
Next came the food, and we helped carry out platters and bowls filled with the turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, two vegetables (usually peas and corn, maybe French onion green bean casserole), the cranberry sauce, rolls, maybe banana or zucchini bread, and someone filling glasses with water, milk, or chosen soft drink. Then, we all sat down, took in the amazing smells, and eagerly prepared for the nirvana that was about to happen. Just one more thing and we’d be ready to dig in.
First, we said Grace to express our thanks for the food we were about to partake of and ask God to bless it and us as well. We were taught at early ages that on Thanksgiving we also, in our prayer of Thanksgiving, not just to think about the feast we were about to eat, but all the blessings that had been bestowed upon us on all of our days we had lived. After that we began passing the platters and bowls and loading down our plates.
There were always conversations during dinner, some including reminders of our table manners, as we sat and ate, and everything combined to make it wonderful.
After dinner, as the table was almost cleared, the dishes were washed, dried and put away (all by hand, of course), again, where everyone helped, and food was also put away, we gave ourselves a chance for some digestion before taking on a piece of pumpkin or apple pie, which awaited us next.
After the pie, we were still at the table, where a bowl of hot chestnuts was brought to the table, and we passed those around as well as the fruit and nut bowl. It was safe to say that, by that time, we were stuffed way more than was the prepared turkey before we devoured it. And as an added bonus, we got to enjoy a few days of eating the leftovers too.
I’m grateful for so much in my 70 years of life, the people in my life, my immediate family, my Lombardo Family, my Hamilton Family, my relatives, friends, my church family, former colleagues, people in sports, groups I belong to, people I’ve encountered along the way, the opportunities with which I’ve been blessed, and the Good Lord too. I am, and will also eternally be, so grateful for those simple family Thanksgiving Memories and other holiday traditions and celebrations we had through the years.
I’m sure many have their similar story to tell on Thanksgiving, and I hope all of you recall some of those in the coming days. Happy Thanksgiving.