You know Thanksgiving will be different this year when you can’t find a fresh turkey that weighs less than 15 pounds, and you’re only cooking for two.
That’s the bad news. The good news is that grocers are so desperate to sell these large birds (large gatherings will be rare, hopefully) that you can save big bucks. So what if it takes 5 hours to roast and you have enough leftovers to last the pandemic? YOU SAVED $25!
Yes, this Thanksgiving will be different for a lot of us, but truth be told, not so different for me. My mother didn’t particularly like relatives around so it was just my parents and sisters when we were living in our mother’s home. The pandemic wouldn’t have made a difference.
That’s not to say, she didn’t pull out all the Thanksgiving stops: turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, scalloped potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn casserole, the infamous french onion green bean casserole, and homemade crescent rolls with homemade pumpkin and mincedmeat pies for dessert. She started her prep Sunday of Thanksgiving week, and spent hours in the kitchen until Thursday around 3:30, when we all gathered at the table so my father wouldn’t miss the second televised football game. We piled on the food, said grace and finished eating by 4 p.m.
Hours to prepare, minutes to eat. What did my mother think? Did any of us ever say, “Thank you”?
I know the holiday meant a lot to her because she gave me some of her Thanksgiving knick-knacks: a porcelain pumpkin creamer and sugar bowl made in Germany that had belonged to her mother, and salt-and-pepper shakers representing a Pilgrim family. Every year, I place them on the Thanksgiving table which this year will be at Adrienne’s house. There, I’ll roast a turkey, she’ll make the sides, and we’ll take our time eating, savoring that we have each other when a lot of folks will be alone.
I photographed the knick-knacks on top of a spirit house Adrienne and I constructed in my back yard for my mother after she died in January 2018. I’m not sure why I wanted her to be a part of our COVID Thanksgiving. Maybe because she couldn’t have been a part of it even if she had wanted to. The last time she, my father and my sisters gathered around her Thanksgiving table was 48 years ago. Nearly every year since then, I’ve imagined all of us secretly showing up at Thanksgiving to surprise her. This year, COVID showed up.
Still, I miss her Thanksgivings. I miss her. I miss her mashed potatoes. She would have been proud that I saved $25 on my turkey.
This post was harder to write than I anticipated. When I’ve written about my mother in the past — even six months ago — I’ve either been really pissed, really sad, really whiney, or really sentimental. I reread this post this morning and think it achieved some sort of balance. Its tone is more to the truth of how I remember my mother. She was driven. She was stubborn. She was quirky. She was sad.
The apple, er . . . the knick knacks don’t fall far from the tree, er . . . the spirit house.
HEALTHY THANKSGIVING, EVERYONE!
I enjoyed reading this. You captured many moments from my past.
Thank you, Susan. I don’t know if you’ll return to this post today, but given that we knew each other in high school and you aren’t a blood sister, do you have any memories of my mother? Any at all? And not just related to Thanksgiving? I’m so curious to know what my friends thought of her back then or what they knew about her. Did you know anything?
My Thanksgiving turkey is 30lbs –never frozen from a local farm friend. With 1 quart of his stuffing and 2 quarts of his gravy, it cost $152. Your mom would not approve.
I will cut the turkey in half, butterfly style and have 2 roastings. I will make mashed potatoes, winter squash, brussel sprouts, and pumpkin pie. Then I will portion it all out for 4 households (including mine) to be enjoyed on Thanksgiving for one, and over the weekend for the other 3.
Usually, I throw a Thanksgiving dinner for 20-30 people. This year will be a lot different, for sure. Including the fact that I will be working for the MA COVID Tracing Team (Inbound line) on Thanksgiving itself. But that will not stop me from cooking and sharing.
First of all, THANK YOU for working the MA COVID Tracing Team inbound line tomorrow. The work of saints.
Now to the bird itself — so many questions: Did you send me a photo of your turkey yesterday? Was it alive yesterday, but dinner tomorrow? Your turkey provides 1 quart of stuffing and 2 quarts of gravy? [Sorry, I’m being an ass. I reread the sentence and saw that you were referring to your local farm friend.] How big is your roasting pan? I assume that’s why you butterfly it. How often do you baste? Do you add anything to the turkey’s natural drippings? Do you make your pie crust from scratch? Did you know that I love winter squash and brussel sprouts?
And no, my mother would not approve the $152. She’d be horrified.
I wish I lived closer so one day Adrienne and I could be a part of your celebration of gratitude.
So many memories of my family gathering. Unlike your family, my Thanksgiving could include my immediate family or extended family; as little as 6 people up to 20. It just depended on the year.
Our meal was an all-day affair. My father would start cooking the turkey between 8 and 9 am, depending on how large it was. We would pause in between courses because there was so much food. Plus, we were a football family; we had to check on the games. Always too much food, but I never tired of the leftovers.
I would agree that your perspective of your mother is well balanced. And Sharon, I think my mother had the same teapot.
It’s a creamer, not a teapot, Adrienne, but that’s not important.
You’ve often told me of your family’s all-day Thanksgivings. You and your siblings were a bunch of rabble-rousers, so I’m certain the holiday table was a hoot.
Thanks for noticing how I’m slowly able to write more honestly about my other — it’s a weird sort of forgetting myself, but at the same time, being myself. Hard to explain.
I’m looking forward to Thanksgiving with you.
Seems that covid has given you some new eyes through which to see your mother a little more clearly. Interesting. And good.
Reading this, I realized how little I remember of our family Thanksgivings. Something a little sad about that. I think we usually visited my father’s parents for Thanksgiving, though I’m not even certain of that. What I do remember of my mother’s cooking is her every-Sunday-pot roast dinner. “Sunday dinner!” my father would gleefully announce as we sat for a noon meal after a full morning of Sunday School and church. She must have gotten up very early each Sunday morning to manage this, and, like you, I wonder if any of us ever thought to say thank-you to her for her work. I find myself missing her almost more these days than I did when she died in 1980!
Carol — my mother made Sunday pot roasts, too, but not EVERY Sunday. When I lived in Grand Rapids, it seemed like all the Dutch families had pot roast for Sunday dinner. I wonder how that tradition started.
And, like you, I miss my mother more now than when she was alive. It’s one thing not to see your mother much when she’s alive, another not to see her at all when she’s no longer alive. It’s easier — sad, but easier.
Happy Thanksgiving–with love–to my sistoooo and Adrienne. xoxo
Love back to you, sistooooo!❤️😘