Thanksgiving is next week! Yikes! Seriously, where did the year go? It feels like I just finished putting away Halloween candy (okay, I admit it, putting it away, eating it; same difference) and now it’s time to start prepping for the annual turkey marathon.
Thanksgiving, for me, is a wild combo of reflection and excitement. Reflection on the past and excitement for the present. Time really does fly. Kids grow up, start their own families, and suddenly, everyone’s scattered across the map. Getting together now requires either a cross-country road trip or a small loan for airfare. “Over the river and through the woods” is less a family tradition and more a GPS rerouting error. As an empty nester and retiree, I find myself missing those old traditions, and I know I’m not the only one.
Memories are powerful, emotion fueling thoughts. One minute you’re remembering grandma fixing stuffing with sage, bread, chicken broth, and I’m not sure what else, while double checking the shopping list to make sure you have enough boxes of Stove Top. It's good to hold onto the past, but not so tightly you forget to make new memories. Traditions handed down through the family are priceless but let’s face it, traditions have to start somewhere and maybe this year is the perfect time to launch a new one. Just think, a tradition you start could become legendary!
This year, I thought I would share some of my favorite Thanksgiving memories and traditions—both the ones I’ve kept and the new ones I’m trying to invent for my kids (although I don’t think my dressing choice will ever be the hit of grandmas.) Growing up Thanksgiving meant piling into our 1966 Plymouth, two-door convertible, and making the trek down Division Street (Now the Lloyd Expressway) to the west side of Evansville to grandma’s house. The anticipation was real; you could smell the turkey and fix-ins from a block away. By the time everyone arrived, we were packed into that little kitchen like sardines. Truth is, we didn’t think a thing about it, there was always room for one more.
Grandma taught me everything about preparing the turkey. At the time, I didn’t realize she was passing on the “turkey chef” legacy. Eventually, I became the one in charge of the feast. I tried to keep every tradition alive, but let’s just say, some things are harder to duplicate than Grandma’s stuffing. I guess you could say I mimicked tradition but could never duplicate it. Once I inherited the “turkey chef” title, I became the family’s first Door Dash, more or less. Packing up Thanksgiving dinner and taking it to my parent’s home where the family gathered. Was it a hassle? Absolutely. Was it worth it? 100%. The best part was always the laughter around the table and the memories that were shared. Memories like knowing to never ask my sister to bring the Deviled Eggs or our first meatless Thanksgiving when grandma’s oven went out while cooking the turkey. As a side note, my home is now the location, the tradition lies in the gathering, continued laughter, and stories shared.
Traditions are meant to be passed down. However, passing the “turkey chef” torch to my daughter; well, let’s just say, it didn’t go as planned. She turned pale at the sight of the turkey, and as a vegetarian (don’t ask, she wasn’t raised that way), she made it clear: “Mom, the legacy ends here.” So much for tradition! Looks like the only thing I’ve successfully passed down is how to microwave stuffing and the recipe for mashed potatoes.
So, cheers! Here’s to new traditions, memory making, and surviving another round of family debates over cranberry sauce. May your turkey be juicy, your stuffing be plentiful, and your holiday pants have plenty of stretch. Happy Thanksgiving! May your leftovers last longer than your patience for Black Friday shopping!
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