It's the first Thanksgiving of my life where there will be no turkey or any kind of meat served, because my son is now a vegetarian. I will not be making my mother's dressing recipe either, because to leave out the chicken broth and cream of chicken soup is just unthinkable. I have planned fresh asparagus, spinach quiche, an orzo and mushroom dish, and pecan pie. I am not worried about anyone leaving the table hungry.
Michael himself made a pan of cornbread this morning. It's nice to have another cook in the family.
If my mother were alive she would insist on having turkey, ham, or some kind of meat on the table. She was highly uncomfortable with the idea of not eating meat or fish. When she was a teenager she had been diagnosed as iron deficient and put on iron supplements, and encouraged to eat beef. For the remainder of her life she was always delighted to partake of roast beef, prime rib, stroganoff, cottage pie, burgers, etc. and to her it was literally feel good food.
I have been missing her a lot today. It has been almost 4 1/2 years since she died, and most of the time I cope pretty well, but around the holidays it makes me sad to think I will never get to see the look of delight on Mom's face as she takes her first bit of turkey and dressing at Thanksgiving dinner. She loved turkey -- but just as an accompaniment to dressing, and she made the best dressing ever. I wrote about it here. I won't ever see her put pretty things on the dining room table, and pull out the good china and crystal and silver. I won't be able to sit in front of the TV eating a hunk of cornbread covered in milk, watching the parades, listening to my parents getting the turkey ready, my childhood Thanksgiving breakfast ritual.
Unlike most families, we rarely had big Thanksgiving dinners. When I will little, and we lived in Augusta, my grandparents and mother's brothers and their families often got together with us at Thanksgiving, but then we moved to Tennessee and my uncle moved his family to Chicago, and that came to an end. So it's usually just our little family. The last few years it has been just me and my son, because my brother is always working the Friday after Thanksgiving. Sometimes we have guests, but most years not.
Mom always started saying "We need to put up the Christmas tree and get out the decorations" right after Thanksgiving. She liked the tree put up and kept up until New Year's Day, a tradition I try to continue.
I miss the after Thanksgiving ritual of Mom and Dad going to Fatman's Forest in Augusta or the garden place in Knoxville [the name escapes me] to pick out a huge, real tree. Even the annual fight about the cost was fun, including watching Dad cuss as he brought it into the house and set it up. "That blankety-blank tree was so expensive we won't be able to afford gifts!" he'd fume.
Mom would just say "Oh hush, let's get the lights and garlands on there and then you can go have a beer."
I miss Dad saying about two days after Thanksgiving "I can't eat ANY MORE TURKEY! Let's order a pizza."
We weren't a big football watching family [except for the Dawgs, of course] but the Georgia v. Georgia Tech was always watched, and Dad would roundly curse the Tech team.
My mother always made all Thanksgiving dinners fun and meaningful.
I told my son about the first Thanksgiving when my brother couldn't make it home because he was in the Army, stationed in Texas, and how Mom and Dad and I went to the Salvation Army and served dinner to their "clients" all afternoon, then stopped and ate our dinner at Cracker Barrel on the way home. That was a depressing day, but I was glad we didn't just sit around moping all day. Dad worked tirelessly for the Salvation Army and believed wholeheartedly in their mission.
It may not happen for a few years yet but I look forward to the day that Michael has a family and we can have a more traditional Thanksgiving. Until then, I will cherish my memories and enjoy eating our big meal wearing my bathrobe, and watching a movie afterwards...
Happy Thanksgiving!
