Mom would have loaves of bread sitting in big bowls similar to the ones down in Nana’s kitchen. The bread would have to dry out and become stale to be used in Mom’s glorious stuffing. There was a big box of raisins on the counter (Dad and I would get a personal batch of stuffing with raisins that Mom put in the bird’s neck which made them even sweeter) and numerous cans of stock for the gravy that was to be made.
I’d go to school that Monday and feel like I couldn’t sit still in my desk. “Three days!” I would mumble to myself, wishing that somehow they would pass faster. All the kids in school seemed similarly hyper, and the teachers were no doubt looking forward to that four day weekend in order to get away from us after three days of exuberance and agitation.
The night before Thanksgiving eventually came, and I was more than happy to help my father get all the chairs and two long folding tables up from the basement. By now the house was filled with a medley of enticing aromas. Mom’s kitchen smelled of stuffing in the oven (she’d make two large vats of it in addition to what she put inside the bird) and cleaned vegetables ready to be cooked. Downstairs, Nana had been baking pies and treats. She also believed in cooling the pies the old fashioned way: on the windowsill. Sometimes I’d run out into the yard, stand among the falling leaves, and just suck in the fecund warm smell coming from the kitchen.
In the morning I awoke to heavenly odors and the sound marching bands in the Macy’s parade my sister was watching on the living room television. In those days the old King Kong movie was broadcast every Thanksgiving (to this day I don‘t understand the reason why), and I would watch that after the parade ended. Breakfast was just a bowl of Cap'n Crunch on those mornings; no sense in wasting any stomach room unnecessarily. There were sweet potatoes, stuffing, gravy, and that succulent bird ready to be eaten with generous slices of pie afterwards.
Article comments
1 - diana hartman
oh victor...nice, very nice...sigh...
2 - Lisa McKay
Great piece, Victor. Thanksgiving seems to be the one holiday that we haven't commercialized beyong recognition - thanks for sharing this very nice reminiscence!
3 - Victor Lana
Lisa and Diana, thanks for your comments. For some reason I was standing in the yard raking leaves yesterday, and this all came back to me. I think it was the smell of the cold in the air, the hush of the wind.
I like Thanksgiving because it is not a religious day. Everyone can celebrate it in their own way for their own reasons. That's why it's still relatively pure. Even the department stores can't ruin it. People rather be home with family than shopping.
4 - diana hartman
maybe you could go out and rake some more leaves because i'd like to hear more about your thanksgiving -- your cousins, traditions you've brought from childhood, traditions you've created for your own kids, all that stuff...
cold air and the smell of winter coming in gets me all excited for christmas, and thanksgiving at my grandparent's house was always the starting point...they had an aluminum tree, the nice kind, not the spindly number...i could watch the color wheel go 'round for hours and i always hoped it'd get stuck on blue...
i was the only granddaughter for 10 years so i had to force my way into the reindeer games with 9 male cousins and 3 brothers...my brothers would take a bullet for me but in those days their loyalties were all male so i was on my own...their favorite game was "kill the guy with the ball"...i was not a fan but it was better than yard darts any day and of course i was always "it" first...
the best part was eating and, much like your childhood home victor, desserts were abound...i never liked aunt peg's pink stuff but i loved a sliver of pumpkin pie with a mound of cool whip...one year i got seriously hurt in a game of "kill" and couldn't eat much but grandma brought me a bowl of cool whip and i got to lay in her huge feather bed with those wonderfully icy cold pillows cuddled up underneath a very heavy quilt and watched the parade on her little b/w tv...it was the coolest...
i was 32 yrs old and over a thousand miles from home by the time a space at the big people table opened up...by the time i returned home the elders had all moved and/or died so i never got to take my rightful place alongside the big people...sitting at the table with everyone at my sister's house just wasn't the same...
i loved being with my grandparents, and man oh man was the food good all those years...
5 - Victor Lana
Diana,
That coveted place at the adults table is still part of the conversation in my family. Oddly enough, today my daughter seems only too happy to be at the folding table with her cousins. In retrospect, I think I was too.
Happy T-Day!
6 - Nancy
A lovely, wonderful post, Victor. Thanks!
7 - Victor Lana
Thanks for the kind words, Nancy. Happy T-Day!
8 - Temple Stark
One of your fellow Blogcritics writers pointed your way as a pick of the 11-19/11-25 week. Click HERE to find out why.
Cheers. Temple