Thanksgiving hasn’t always been my thing. I was never a big fan of turkey. Or mashed potatoes. Or gravy.
I showed up for the pumpkin pie and the stuffing.
But after becoming a mom, creating traditions around Thanksgiving and holiday food became more important. I wanted to prepare the meal — all by me, all from scratch (except the damn pie crust, which I will forever and always hate). I wanted family around. I wanted people gathered by the fire outside. I wanted to collect all of the Thanksgiving food magazines from the newsstand. And I wanted to experiment in advance of the holiday with ways to prepare allergy-friendly foods for my son. Plus, I wanted to document those recipes for him. (That actually turned into something I could share with you every year.)
2020 Is Relentless
This year, though, everything feels upside down. I’ve picked up just one recipe magazine off the newsstand. I feel thoroughly uninspired to prepare a menu. I feel an inordinate amount of stress about gathering with family. I’m not clamoring to host.
Indeed, this year will be different. But it remains important to us to be with family. So, in our house, we will keep the gathering small. And it’s utterly heartbreaking. We have been staying home since March. We’ve given up a lot this year. Yet, it feels like we’re nowhere closer to the end of this pandemic. This year has been hard for us all, and this holiday season will test us.
We all have different levels of comfort and risk — and feel differing degrees of responsibility for the community around us. Perhaps you’re explaining to children why they can’t see grandma and grandpa. Perhaps you’re not sure it’s worth repairing a whole turkey for a small group. Perhaps you’ve painstakingly grown your “pod.”
Food = Love
For people like me, preparing a large family meal is a way we convey love. Food’s a love language. So I’ve decided that even for our smaller group, I will still prepare a semi-elaborate Thanksgiving spread. I’m still going to spend a few solid days in the kitchen. Because that’s where the JOY is (for me). That’s where MY HEART is.
The turkey will be a few pounds lighter. But there will still be dressing, there will still be salad, there will still be potatoes (both “Conner” and mashed). There will still be fresh cranberry sauce. And pie, you ask? Oh, there will be homemade pies. My son suggested we have 16 varieties. We’ve negotiated down to three.
And the day before Thanksgiving, when there is no school, I will bring my son into the kitchen and invite him to help me just as we did last year. I will hope that he has some muscle memory … And some real memories of our time last year.
I hope and pray that next year we will be able to return to our big Thanksgiving hosting tradition. I hope that 2020 and COVID will be but a blip in my son’s consciousness — and that what he remembers about his childhood Thanksgivings will be that there was always joy and love and delicious food and time spent in the kitchen.
Because, while the table may be smaller, and the turkey will be, too, the love that surrounds us this season will be as big as ever.