As far back as I can remember, my family met for thanksgiving dinner at my Grandfathers house. The place smelled of turkey, stuffing, and sides. My mom would be the one who would be the one baking pumpkin pies with Mrs. Smith as an aide. It made our entire house smell of pumpkin, and tormented me all day long. Her only other job for Thanksgiving was to get us to my Grandfather’s on time. And with how my sister and I usually behaved, that was a much more difficult task. There is even a story of my mother leaving my sister and me at home because we were not behaving on her birthday. Granted, that was not Thanksgiving, but it gives you a frame of reference for what my mother had to deal with. And while I cannot say I remember this, I can very much believe that it has happened.
I have a lot of fond memories of dinners at my grandfather’s house, and nit just Thanksgiving dinners. Also, while I do not miss much being a vegetarian, I do miss his cooking. Of course, I also miss my grandfather. I can even remember my grandmother being at the dinner table, but I do not remember the seating arragenments other than my grandfather being at the head of the table. When my grandfather died his brother took the place at the head of the table. Had to keep it in with the family.
There are many fond memories at that dinner table. One time I almost called them the F!@#-ing family, but I caught myself, barely. This has become known as the fffffamily incident. One time my sister dropped a potato into her glass, perfect shot. And of course, there are the onions that no one likes but that nearly everyone eats. Once I pointed out that I have my grandfather’s nose, and the looks on everyone’s faces as they realized they missed that through the years.
I am very thankful for the time I spent with my family, and because of my family, thanksgiving has become my favorite holiday.