The Fabric of Thanksgiving
This month’s “Can I Be Candid?” is written by Leslie Eichhorn, Writer at NancyHicksLive.
Thanksgiving Day is a week away. In the midst of preparing turkey and side dishes and most importantly, pulling my extra-stretchy pants out of my closet, I’m feeling both joy and sadness.
As a child, I celebrated Thanksgiving with my grandparents. They would drive from their cottage on the Chesapeake Bay to our house in Pennsylvania. They didn’t drive long distances except on holidays, so their visit was a big deal.
My mom and dad would cook a lovely dinner together with unnecessary comments and advice from my grandmother. My grandfather snuck my sister and me away to devise multiple ways to annoy my grandmother (that was always my favorite part of the day).
And while this gathering sounds idyllic, of course, it wasn’t perfect. My mom’s first Thanksgiving turkey contained several straight pins that, to my mother’s horror, ended up in my grandmother’s mouth. Another year my poor sister spent Thanksgiving in bed with influenza. My second year of college, we went to a restaurant in Maryland so my grandmother wouldn’t have to cook, and we all came home with food poisoning. Through all the mishaps, there was joy in being together.
Two seats have sat empty since my grandparents passed away. Sadness and joy are both present at our Thanksgiving table. My grandmother would have adored my son with his big green eyes and mischievous grin. My grandfather was able to meet all our kids, and he loved listening to my girls’ giggles. He would have found a way for the kids to drive me crazy, then claimed total innocence.
Gosh, I miss them.
There is joy in building new traditions with our children and my parents, who are now the grandparents who travel to our house. My mom gets in my husband’s way in the kitchen, attempting to be genuinely helpful. My dad gets the kids wound up until I send them all outside (dad included). We have a fire roaring in the backyard that makes everyone sleepy. We eat so much there is barely room for dessert. We tell our kids about their great grandparents.
And those two empty seats come alive with the memories of the people who once filled them.
One day, our children will ask us to drive over to their houses for Thanksgiving. We’ll encourage their kids to drive them crazy. My husband will give unnecessary comments and advice in the kitchen. I imagine a future uncle will get the little kids wound up.
The book of Ecclesiastes Expresses: “He [God] has made everything beautiful in its time.”
For me, sadness and joy are interwoven into the fabric of every Thanksgiving. Time passes, and each year, the holiday becomes more beautiful to me because of their presence.
And I am grateful.
Wishing you full hearts and full bellies this Thanksgiving Day,
The NancyHicksLive Team