Today I ponder Thanksgiving. How many of you celebrate? Or something similar? And do you love it? Or do you loathe it, the holiday of American gluttony? I know many of my American friends love it: Football, feasting, family, and all that jazz. But for me, it’s hard to pinpoint when I started to hate it so much, this obligatory holiday, where we celebrate things we really shouldn’t be (I won’t go all politically correct on you, but you have seen Peter Pan, right?), and where most have come to celebrate it as just a simple time to be with family and friends and pause and breathe and reflect on the gratefulness of our cornucopias aplenty. I think I can pinpoint it a few things. One was the realization of what a turkey is. Interesting, the birds are still called what they are whereas beef and pork are not. I get it, you can’t lie down and snuggle with a pecking chicken, but you sure can with a baby calf, and even the most enthusiastic meat-eater agrees. There’s something unethical about that eating that with which you can love so tenderly. Still, friends of mine who own farms now will tell you that you can, in fact, hang and enjoy the company of our feathered-friends, even the ones you choose to eat. Either way, it’s a very difficult time in most children’s lives when they learn the truth. Most can get over it, having been raised to enjoy its flavor and not having to do the deed him or herself. I just couldn’t seem to. Of course, no one says you have to eat any meat. There are plenty of options, make no mistake, from gourds to cranberry sauce to pies, no one is forcing us to wear sweatpants and unbutton our pants. And I do have very fond memories of being with my Nana, the woman I derived my name from, my tea-drinking buddy, the woman who introduced me to Twinings and Darjeeling and quiet moments where we’d go sit alone out on her enclosed porch and just talk and sip and where she told me I was beautiful, and I almost believed her. So I think I’ve pinpointed it to being an adult. There is something "unmagical" about Thanksgiving for me. It screams time-honored tradition of stereotypical roles, where the women cook and the men watch football, and where the main chef doesn’t rest, rising at 4:00 am to stuff and cook a bird so everyone can gorge and complain later about how full they are, and where she must clean up the mess everyone has made afterwards, barely having a moment to eat herself, all her hard work, cold and dry, by the turn of the setting sun as everyone leaves ‘grateful’ to be full.
And really, it reminds me of my mother. My poor mother, the cook, the forever-traditionalist who refused paper plates or plastic, slaving for the happiness of everyone else around her. And then I begin to miss her and lament at all the times I stayed at my high school football game with friends, procrastinating, not grateful at all for what she was doing, but complaining with my friends, and doing things I shouldn’t have been doing. Then comes the guilt, at not only that, but at the fact of how much I had to be grateful for in her when she was alive. And then I just get sad…because I miss her. And though I respected her greatly, I didn’t appreciate a lot of things she did. Sigh… I cooked Thanksgiving dinner once. After that, I refused. I won’t do it again. If someone else doesn’t host it, my brother and some family and close friends go out to a restaurant, come back somewhere to play games, and to have desserts only. But we don’t need a made-up holiday to do it. Or to say what we’re thankful for. Or to drive or fly on the busiest, most inane holiday there is. And so, we don’t. Often. And I? I--am thankful for that. And I wonder if someday, I realize how much I wish I had the people I love surrounding me on the Thanksgiving I once loathed.
7 Comments
Master
11/15/2018 17:53:24
I still enjoy you!
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11/15/2018 18:18:11
Quite relieved we don't have Thanksgiving in the UK for the above reasons. I rather hate overeating and enforced jolliness we have at Christmas. When we had the farm I could escape to work (milking or feeding the animals) and leave the rest of the family to overeat and become crabby. (Ethically I started to hate the idea of keeping livestock for the same reasons as you, and was very relieved when they were all sold 17 years ago. It wasn't my choice to go into farming. I kind of fell into it!) My idea of a perfect Christmas now would be if someone would volunteer to take Dad for a few days, and I could stay at home on my own, read and watch films! (I am becoming very antisocial.) I don't blame you for not cooking Thanksgiving dinner. I mostly avoid cooking at Christmas if I possible can.
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Melissa Hamilton
11/15/2018 19:06:14
I know when I started to loathe the holidays
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Linda H.
11/15/2018 23:42:55
I love the versatility of your writing. I have a Nana too. She is very ill but I have memories like that because my Mom died when I was 4. I almost didn’t finish Imogen when the other slave entered but so glad I did. Is the new one coming out any different?
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Jane P
11/16/2018 10:56:45
Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday for several reasons. It is the relaxing visit with family before the craziness of Christmas. No gifts to buy, no decorating necessary. One way to enjoy it is to ask everyone to bring one part of the meal. No one should be trapped in the kitchen. The people who like to cook/bake can do that in their own kitchen and those that don't get to enjoy each others company while they clean-up. Play music and don't let stress rob you of a fun get-together.
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Joe
11/16/2018 13:31:10
RB prior to my divorce we would go to her sister’s house play football the adults against the kids. Where I tore my ACL, after playing said football game we would sit down for what was deemed the American turkey dinner turkey, ham and all the fixings. Then after a few hours of rest then came the Italian dinner with stuffed shells, then final the deserts. Well now that I no longer invited, I chose not to ask or push my son to be with me on the holidays as he enjoys the big family dinners. The last few years I have found enjoyment in relaxing eating what I wish and reading on these days. Some may say it’s sad and lonely but I see it as me time.
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DeeSee
12/12/2018 17:38:29
I guess why you dislike it is why I continue to love it. My dad always made his dinner rolls, we all helped with the turkey in some way or the other, dressing balls were rolled by everyone. Aunt Alice's cranberry salad was a delicious must in lieu of a can shaped blob. Pumpkin pies were often brought by an uncle's family.
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