A Day In The Life

Thanksgiving. The holiday celebrated in the United States on the 4th Thursday in November. For me it has evolved over these many years, changed from what it once was and meant.

Growing up it was off to my Grandparents, where the children ate at the children’s table in the kitchen, and my cousins and I played together all afternoon in the finished basement/playroom. Except for the year I woke up covered with Chicken Pox, which then spread to my brother and sister. No Thanksgiving for us that year. When my family moved to the suburbs, Thanksgiving was celebrated in our home in New Jersey, alternating years with my Aunt & Uncle in Connecticut.

Thanksgiving at my Grandparents in the early 1960’s. That’s my father pouring the wine.

My Grandmother & me-1961                                                   

My mother & Grandmother

Thanksgiving switched over to our home in the early 1960’s. How formal it was in those days-my father and Uncle both wearing suits and ties throughout the entire meal. Smoking too.

 In my late teens my parents divorced, so Thanksgiving evolved once again, my Aunt (also divorced) and cousins would come to our home, my grandfather widowed by that time, would sometimes join us, taking the seat at the head of the table.

1988

I made my first Thanksgiving in our home in 2000, with both friends and family. My BFF’s mother joined us, my aunt and uncle, and sister with her 2 year old.

After that year, Thanksgiving changed, my mother moved out of state, my aunt and cousins had moved too far for a day trip, the holiday became a “non holiday” for my husband and me. We would go to a movie, and have a small dinner at home. I remember it bothering me at first, but after a few years it became the “new normal”- I welcomed a day off at leisure. One year we served meals at a local shelter for those who needed them.

In 2013 my Aunt and Uncle joined us. By this time she and I had distanced ourselves from most of our family- but that’s for another blog.  I made my grandmother’s sweet potato stuffing, a taste of the past that my Aunt and I both enjoyed- bringing my Grandmother to mind and those Thanksgiving dinners at her home 52 years earlier. 

Many families have traditions that go on from generation to generation. Ours did not, life changed, the family members changed, the traditions gone. Looking back I am glad for the memories I have of those Thanksgivings growing up, but am also happy with life as it is today. One can see change leaving an empty space where something used to be, or view it as an opening for something new. I choose to see it as an opening.