The Give and Take of Thanksgiving

A few months back, while I was visiting my family in Kentucky, I made my annual, off-the-cuff suggestion that everyone should come to Tennessee and have Thanksgiving at our house. Although the invitation was sincere, I was still fairly shocked when the idea was met with not just approval but a dizzyingly efficient bit of Warford family logistical brainstorming.

Within minutes my mother had devised not only their travel schedule (including…the time they would need to be on the road, when the meal would be served and the exact time they would need to depart for home the next day), but she had also sketched out a general menu of who would bring what. It was just another reminder that if my Mom had been in charge of the war in Iraq, our soldiers would have been home in time for the first Christmas. She is a master at coordination and timely exit strategies.

Once we got home, it began to sink in that I had committed us to a fairly large undertaking. I have had family visit before, but not so many. In addition to my parents, my two brothers and their wives would be coming, as well as two nieces and their three children. I looked around our house and wondered where I would put everyone.

Thank goodness for Hilton Honors points! Just down the road from our house is a nice, fairly new Hampton Inn hotel. Five room reservations later and the bathroom/bed issue was taken care of, but not the issue of “where is everyone going to eat?”

For some strange reason we thought our recent home renovation would expand the existing structure. This was a basic failure in concept. Everything does look different (and hopefully, better), but square footage wise, we have the same house…and the same limitations.

Then I remembered our holiday meals when I was a kid. My Mamaw and Papaw, aunt, uncle and cousins would descend upon our house for holidays, and it wasn’t about where we sat. The rooms in my parent’s old house were not large either, and the “kids” table often sat in the master bedroom off the den. From the laughter and chatter that always echoed through the door, I don’t think it mattered where we ate.

Our Thanksgiving meal was always lunch, served at 1pm. That gave us kids the time to watch the Macy’s parade in the morning while Mom did her magic in the kitchen. As we got older, we’d be recruited to help with menial tasks, like peeling potatoes or rolling bananas in chopped peanuts. The menu was extensive, but somehow Mom always had everything hot and ready when it was time to eat.

On TV and in movies, the big holiday turkey came to the table whole, glistening and dark brown, stuffed with dressing and garnished around the platter. We didn’t have that kind of table space, or that kind of time. Waiting for everyone to gather, hold hands and watch Dad carve the turkey would have caused our other food to grow cold. Our holiday meals were essentially a buffet line of everyone’s favorite dishes. Mom did not hold back, partly for fear that someone would be disappointed, but mostly because she loved to make us happy…and well fed.

Due to the multitude of dishes sitting on every available surface, the turkey was always pre-sliced, served on a large platter with the pre-carved ham. When it was time to eat, we’d all gather in the kitchen for Dad to pray. As a kid, I probably didn’t listen to the words of any of those Thanksgiving prayers. My mind was overwhelmed by the waves of intoxicating food smells flowing through the room. Still, I’m pretty sure I got the message, because I was always happy and grateful to be there; blessed then and now to be a part of my family.

It won’t be the same having the meal at my house and not in the house I grew up in. Unlike Mom, I am not making everyone’s favorite food (just mine). It won’t be the same for a lot of reasons, but I hope the spirit of the day and the joy of being together is still as strong as when I was younger. I want those kinds of memories for my kids. Vivid and sweet, warm with laughter, the smell of heaven drifting out of the stove and throughout the house.

I hope they feel thankful.