We gather together to ask the Lord’s Blessing…

I think the thing that stands out most in my memories of

Thanksgiving is the way I felt waiting for the feast to

begin. I felt so safe and so comfortable with my family

around me. It was that joy I was most thankful for on

the day we set aside especially to say “thank you” for all

our blessings.

My earliest recollection was having the meal at my grandparents’

home, right next door! That was more than convenient, it was

simply magic, (though my mom always romanticized the idea of

“going home for the holidays” and remarked with humor that

walking across the yard was a real stretch to “over the river and

through the woods…”).

My grandparents’ home was absolutely lovely. On the table would

be the two cut glass turkeys that have graced every Thanksgiving

table in our family for more years than I am old. (I was always

especially enchanted at the site of the individual salt cups

made of green depression glass gracing each place setting).

One of the glass turkeys always held cottage cheese and the other

homemade cranberry relish. When I was a child, I had not developed

a taste for either, though today, I do enjoy the cranberry.

My grandmother was an accomplished seamstress so often the

large mahogany table would be covered with a lovely table cloth

she had created herself.

The dishes and stemware sparkled in the sun streaming in through

the dining room windows and the smells coming from the kitchen

were sheer heaven.

My grandfather was usually in charge of the turkey.

He used to baste the bird carefully about every

fifteen minutes with great ceremony and when he

was satisfied it was picture perfect, we were

then, and only then, invited into the kitchen

to rave about his creation!

About a half hour before the meal, he would take the

turkey neck from the big roaster and put it on a plate

with lots of pepper and a pinch of salt.

He and I would sneak away to the solarium to eat that neck

privately with little sea food forks. It was our special time together

and I LIVED for that. As years went by and my mother took over the

Thanksgiving dinner, “Boppo” and I would still eat the neck together.

The last Thanksgiving dinner we shared together before he died in 1980

we at that neck and I remember it as the sweetest part of the dinner.

As I write I am sitting here in front of my computer looking at

a picture of my grandfather and thinking what I would give to

share that turkey neck again. After all these years, I miss

him so much. My eyes still fill a little thinking of him and

wondering if one day, I will have been the kind of grandparent

to deserve that feeling from my own grandchildren.

There would always be Oysters on the Half Shell for those who had

acquired a taste for them, while my grandpa and I wolfed down the

neck.

Finally, the big moment would come when we were called to the table.

The bill of fare rarely changed because in my family, we lived by the

creed, “If it’s not broken, don’t fix it”.

There would be roast turkey (of course) with two kinds of stuffing. The

oyster dressing would be there along with the traditional variety and there

was always a big steaming bowl of mashed potatoes and a large offering

of candied sweet potatoes.

There would be escalloped corn, deviled eggs, assorted relishes, hot

rolls with butter and of course, pumpkin pie topped with mounds of

fresh whipped cream. Mincemeat pie would be there for those who

loved it as I do, and it was completely homemade, for a good number

of my growing up years, by my grandmother and her mother. It was

indescribable in its delicate flavor and texture. In later years, when

my mother and dad had taken over Thanksgiving dinner, my Aunt

Ann made the pies and they were simply to DIE for. (I have never

tasted a pie crust as flaky as hers and if you would like the recipe

just click here.)

When we had demolished that dinner, we always remarked that it was better

than the year before. Someone would always say, “I don’t know how its

possible, but you outdid yourself.” The cook would beam!

My dad loved the turkey legs and in his younger days, he would be able, with

little difficulty, to put two away by himself. My dad and my grandpa used to have

contests to see who could eat the most and believe me, it was usually a photo

finish!

Following the meal that left us all with the top button undone, the men would

retire to the living room to watch football while the women would linger at the

table chatting and having their coffee. Sometimes we would get a game of

Yahtzee going or play cards.

Believe it or not, my grandfather always washed the dishes! He used to go around

the table after the meal and collect the silverware that had not been used and

playfully scold us for using too many utensils. We all helped clear and usually

we pitched in to dry, but he did the washing!

When my own family was young and I had taken over the holiday dinners, my

grandfather was not able to do the dishes nor would we have allowed it, but

it was still the tradition for him to collect the unused silver and chide us in

such a funny and expected way. When he was gone, I took over the collection

process and do to this day.

Another family tradition was for my dad to make a comment about the

“butter knife.” He used to LOVE to embarrass my mom by saying, “Wow,

a butter knife!” It was funny because no matter how simple or informal the

meal, my mother always set a table. There was rarely a time when we

did not sit down to any meal that was not served on a properly set table, so

he liked to kid her. This, of course, was when she had taken over the

family Thanksgiving dinner to relieve my grandmother after so many

years of hosting the day at her house.

Thanksgiving evening always brought with it an informal supper of

cold turkey sandwiches and left over relishes. We never really

understood how after eating that huge meal at noon, we had

“room” for anything else that day, but we always did!

A couple of years ago, my parents and my husband and I had Thanksgiving

alone at my house. My children are grown up and live in different areas, so

my parents and my hubby and I have created our own new tradition.

I decided to make my small table look as beautiful as possible so I went out

and purchased new dinnerware and new table coverings. I decorated the

table in hunter green and gold and it honestly did look lovely (even if I

do say so myself).

The plates I chose were the type with raised sides. They were white with

a simple gold band as the only design. At any rate, I served the meal and

was receiving the complements that make taking on the job worthwhile,

when out of the clear blue sky, my dad pipes up with, “This is the first time

I ever had to eat Thanksgiving dinner out of a bowl!” It struck me so funny

I literally couldn’t eat the rest of the meal. I had tears running down my

face for an hour and my dad was just amazed that we all found that so

funny.

After dinner now, we take a trip to our local Big Lots store where we try

to walk off the dinner and pick out a few new Christmas decorations for

Mom and Dad’s house and ours. It may seem like an unusual thing to do

but if you think about it, it really isn’t what you eat or what you do

that makes the day special, its who you’re with and how much you love

the time you spend together.

Thanksgiving is just one more way to thank God for all the bounty of

a life so blessed.

P.S.

I don’t use the plates with the raised sides anymore. I like to

eat dinner too and its hard to do while you’re laughing so hard

you cry.

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