Thanksgiving Memories

When I was growing up, Thanksgiving was a big holiday. Even though our family of four was small, the table was set for grandparents, aunts, uncles and family friends. The days before Thanksgiving were a mad rush of preparation. There was cleaning and polishing and scrubbing. My sister and I were the dusters, silver polishers and vacuumers. The day before Thanksgiving we were the vegetable peelers and choppers.

The table was prepared with the good china. It was the set my mother brought back from Japan after the war. It was white with a silver rim and a bamboo leaf pattern. She also brought out the good silver. That silver was polished (by us) and ready to go. The silver box was scratched mahogany. Inside it was a lining of purple velvet and the cutlery was stacked in neat columns. The backing on the front lid was peeling away from the wood and every year I thought that we should glue it back and every year we didn’t. My grandmother’s crystal was also on the table; every year it held the olives and celery.

Thanksgiving morning started at dawn. My dad went onto the kitchen where he washed the bird in the kitchen sink. Why we never got sick from that I’ll never know. He stuffed it with an old family recipe and started it cooking. We woke up to the wonderful scent of roasting turkey.

When my sister and I were small we watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade and then the Natalie Wood movie, Miracle on 34^th Street. As we got older we went to our high school rivalry Thanksgiving Day football game; always against Red Bank High School. In our 20’s a family of friends started a tradition of rolls and coffee at their house and then a trek to the football game. That tradition lasted for many years.

We were always back home by around 2:00 pm. The house was warm, many times a fire was going in the fireplace and the place smelled delicious. The family and friends, if not already there, started arriving and cocktails and snacks were passed around. There was a lot of smiling and laughing and kissing. No matter what age we were, it was warm and happy and secure. 

Fast forward. Life changes, family and friends have passed away. While those moments can never return, the Thanksgiving traditions flow through my blood.  

Tonight I polished a silver tray that I’ll never use. Habit I guess. I also set the table for our small family with the good stuff; my mother’s china and grandmother’s crystal celery dish. On Thursday when I’ll bow my head and thank God for the family and friends in our lives today, I will also remember the Thanksgivings of long ago. I truly miss those people and traditions. I hope that wherever they are, they will feel my prayer and my toast to their memory. I also hope that my own children will have memories of happy Thanksgivings from their own childhoods and that they too can create traditions that can be passed down.

Happy Thanksgiving!