When I was a kid, we always went to my grandmother's house for Thanksgiving. I have such vivid memories of helping put the leaves in the table and setting out the best dishes. There were never quite enough of them when the whole family gathered together, so the kids (who sat at the card table at the end of the big table) ate with the bubbled glass plates that only came out for holidays as well. Once I got old enough to get the best dishes, I wistfully longed for the fun dishes of my youth. They still make me smile when I see them in the china cabinet. My cousins and I would sneak olives from the relish tray, bounce back and forth between the bustling kitchen and the inevitably interesting conversations the men were having in the den. While my aunt carved the turkey, all of the kids would gather around and making cheeping sounds while she fed the "little birds." One grandma would make the gravy, and the other would dish up mountains of mashed potatoes into the dish we always used, jelly into the dish we always used, stuffing into the dish we always used... There was such comfort in that continuity, and I'm so grateful I had the chance to experience it.
When I got older and got married, we decided (as many do) to split holidays, and celebrated Thanksgiving with my husband's family, which is much bigger than mine. As a result, they did a potluck, with everyone bringing something to share. Usually one uncle would cook (or deep fry, in later years - yummm) a giant turkey. One aunt specialized in pies of all sorts of delicious varieties. There were mashed potatoes, homemade bread and jelly, cheese platters, stuffing, and (most importantly) Mark's grandma's strawberry tapioca pudding. Just thinking about it makes me feel happy. Because there were so many people, we took turns hosting. We did so a couple of times, including the year I cooked a 28 pound bird. It was at my in-law's cabin in the woods often, as well as at Mark's uncle's country property where we enjoyed riding horses while we waited for the food to be set out. There was so much family fun in the little differences every year, and I'm so grateful I had the chance to experience it.
For the last several years that we lived in the States, my best friend and I piled her two girls and my three girls and ourselves and all our stuff into a minivan and took a road trip together. One year it was to St. Louis where we played at a children's museum and explored the city. One year we went back to our old hometown where we relived our earliest childhood memories and visited relatives we hadn't seen for years. One year she came and visited my grandparents, since it only seemed right that she should be familiar with the homes and town that were so important to me growing up. My bestie and I have literally been friends for our whole lives, and these girl trips strengthened and expanded our friendship and helped our daughters forge their on strong, vital relationships with one another. There was so much joy in this precious time together, and I'm so grateful I had the chance to experience it.
Since we've moved to Guatemala, Thanksgiving has taken on a different meaning to me. I understand a little more what it means to truly take time to be thankful, and why it's important to do so. I'm sure the first pilgrims longed for their loved ones far, far away. Nonetheless, they chose to focus on the exciting possibilities around them in their new land, and the new and very different friends they'd made. Somehow the fact that their fellow travelers - the ones who'd come over with them, toiled with them, shared a common background AND future with them - became all the more dear and beloved. I get that now. I get all of that. Our Thanksgivings here have been a mix of traditional Iowa Thanksgiving fare, Pennsylvania Thanksgiving fare, Southwest Thanksgiving fare, and a dash of traditional Guatemalan fare mixed in. There is so much growth and challenge in celebrating an American holiday here, and I'm so grateful I have had the chance to experience it.
In the end, after all of this reflection, all I feel is tremendously blessed. Sometimes I mourn for the fact that my kids won't know the same traditions that I knew, but I also delight in the opportunities they will get that I didn't. Just think of what stories they'll have to tell, and what traditions they'll be able to carry forward into their own families. I have so much to give thanks to God for in my past, present, and future, and I'm glad we have a day to contemplate and celebrate such things. Happy Thanksgiving, all!
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