"Just Us" Thanksgiving

I love Thanksgiving.  It has been my favorite for a long time, easily beating the commercially driven Christmas.  Thanksgiving means family.  Time to sit and laugh.  Time to cram into the kitchen, butts squeezing past each other, snitching tastes of dishes and making precious memories. 

My favorite Thanksgiving memory was when I was in York College.  My sister, a friend and I drove from York, Nebraska to Missouri to spend Christmas with two of my aunts, their family, my grandparents, my parents and my siblings.  The women had developed a tradition of bringing homemade gifts for everyone.  My aunt made fluffy, crocheted scarfs for all the ladies and Mom made us all aprons. We posed in a chorus line for pictures, wearing our new gifts, laughing at ourselves. It was joyous!

This Thanksgiving it was just us.  Just my little family.  I really struggled with being alone.  The date snuck up on me and I, incidentally, delayed in asking people over.  By the time I remembered to invite, everyone already had plans.  Surprisingly, no one in our sweet church thought to invite the Keys over for Thanksgiving Dinner.  So I planned our simple menu.  Cooked the traditional meal alone in my kitchen, remembering the past Thanksgivings, relishing memories and singing Christmas songs. 

My melancholy mood slowly diminished as the day wore on and grew more and more special.  I realized, looking around my small home filled with children, that someday, these little people would be at the top of my list for attendants to my Thanksgiving meals.  In a few short years, my children will be busy with their own lives.  It occurred to me that in 2031, if "only" my kids came to dinner, I would be overjoyous.  My Thanksgiving epiphany renewed my heart.  By the end of our meal preparations, all my favorite people were in the kitchen.  Isaiah and Lela Mae washed the big pots and pans.  Rose mashed the potatoes.  Samuel stirred the sweet tea and the baby watched the commotion from his bouncy seat.  Jason stood back and enjoyed the business.  It was heaven! 

Our day wasn't full of Grandma's loud guffaws and Aunt Catherine's oyster stuffing was missed.  Mom wasn't here to spoil her grandkids and we didn't sit around and sing hymns (a wonderful Bentch tradition).  These memories are like hot chocolate on a cold day, warming my heart and bringing a smile to my face. 

But I did sip coffee with the love of my life and watch the Macy's Day Parade.  I enjoyed our alone day and created new memories to stock pile away in my Thanksgiving memory file.  Truly, the lives around my Thanksgiving table are the most important to me and I am incredibly grateful to share my favorite holiday with each of them.