Monday, October 24, 2005

The Forgotten Holiday

On a child-free trip to an oversized discount store I decided to take a look through the seasonal aisle. With Halloween a week away I was hoping to grab up some good buys for next year. To my shock there were maybe 6 or so seemingly discarded ceramic pumpkins, and a few Fall throw rugs being pushed to the side by several tons of Christmas "must haves."

I shouldn't have been shocked. Afterall every single store I've been in recently, with children in tow, was bursting with Christmas. Even so, I wanted to scream, "WHATEVER HAPPENED TO THANKSGIVING?"

What has happened? If there are no gifts, no material gain to be had, does a holiday simply disappear?

Thanksgiving is my all time, every time, favorite holiday of the year. Years ago the tradition to gather with my Mom's parents for the feast was started. Their tradition to escape the northeast in winter meant they would leave for the Sunshine State the weekend after the big Turkey event and return sometime after Easter. So if you wanted to see them before their sojourn, this was the family event to be at. I can still remember waking up in my Aunt's old room with the smell of turkey and fixing already wafting upstairs. Nana ruled the feast and proudly cooked from dusk till dawn the whole week before.

When my Grandparents grew too old to host, and for that matter, to travel to FL, we all gathered at my Aunt and Uncle's. Marriages and childbirth had increased our numbers, and the gathering became even more special. We are a close family by most standards but when do most families just stop and visit for 3 days? No school, no work, no sports to run to, no mounds of ironing or mending calling out to be attended to. Just a pure and uninterupted visit full of family.

The one feast that will always stick out in my mind is the last Thanksgiving my Grandparents were with us. My Grandmother's health had been failing, my Grandfather somehow knew it would be their last. After that wonderful meal, when we were all pushed back from the table making room for our expanded waist lines, my Grandfather, with tears in his eyes, proposed a toast to his family and then gave us all our Christmas presents, a card with a check for the children. In was the following Spring that my Grandmother left us, and shortly afterwards so did my Grandfather.

I miss my Grandparents, but I miss them more at Thanksgiving. However, when I am chilled by the November air, I reach into my Aunt and Uncle's hall closet and pull out one of Grandpa's woolen shirts. I am warmed two fold. Once by the wool and once again by the spirit of my loving Grandparents.

The tradition to gather at my Aunt and Uncle's home still stands. But new traditions have started. We all contribute to the meal. Instead of a turkey being the center of the meal my brother and I plan and prepare a turducken. It is a turkey, stuffed with a duck which is stuffed with a chicken. And layered in between each bird is a different flavorful stuffing. We start the planning sometime in late September. We discuss who will bring which bird. Who will do the deboning? (My brother is much better at this than I am.) Which stuffings will be made, and whos meat thermometer still works.

We gather at my Aunt and Uncle's home on the Wednesday evening before the big day. The stuffings are made, the birds laid out, the assembly completed; a turduken. The masterpiece must cook for 11 to 13 hours in low heat, so it goes into the oven between 11 p.m. and midnight.

My husband and I get the family room sofabed by the wood stove. We are lulled into a fitfull sleep by the aroma of wood burning and are awaken by the sweet smells of turduken. I've never asked, but I am sure that everyone else has the same sensual wake up call, for soon everyone is in the kitchen with their noses pressed as close as possible to the oven window.

Midmorning my brother takes over the watch. His cooking skills far out weigh mine and I leave the finishing to him while I turn to help with the side dishes that will complete the meal.

For the whole three day holiday there is no fighting. The children play games, or knit, or sew, or read. There are usually a few of us now adults that hit the road for a mile or two, trying to ward off the Thanksgiving Ten. It never works. During the big day the parades and the football games are on in the background, at night we watch movies. On a few occassions my sister-in-law and I have been moved to sing the Turkey Song. And of course we give it the dance movements it deserves. On these occassions I am very thankful no one in the family owns a functioning video camera.

There is always food out for snacking.

So, all you oversized discount stores feel free to miss the best holiday of the year. You would probably try to spoil it anyway by suggesting we all become involved in a mass marketing frenzy of having to buy gifts for all our family and friends instead of enjoying their wonderful love and company.

2 comments:

DawnApril said...

LOVE this entry. See, this is the kind of thing you HAVE TO SUBMIT!!!!! Submit to the group before TG, then submit it to Globe West. Okay? Okay.

Idiot Cook said...

I absolutely agree with DA. This is fabulous--the "tur-ducken" is the hook (I think you might need the hyphen for clarity). It's the real unique part of this (i.e. the one that could make the essay sell). Suburban Diary is always looking for essays...talk to Susan about it (actually send her this essay--she's great at giving advice, and she's published in the Globe many times). You'll probably need to edit...get it down to about 500-600 words...and get to the tur-ducken a little faster...come up with a witty title to go with it...and even if you don't get it anywhere for THIS Turkey Day (Maybe call your piece "Celebrating Tur-Duck Day" or something like that), many women's mags plan 6-12 months out, so you can start submitting in early 2006. My two cents!!! another place to consider is the Christian Science Monitor as well...again, talk to Susan or go online to get their submission guidelines.

Keep writing!! RB