Well, Thanksgiving for my family was different this year, as it was for millions across our nation. This is normally a holiday where families gather, who haven’t seen each other in quite some time, to break bread and give thanks for our time on this Earth.
The gathering part has always been my favorite, since childhood. When I was a child, my family of four would travel, two hours West of our coastal town, to my father’s family, in Springfield, Massachusetts. My father is one of five siblings; and from a large Irish Catholic family, with many extended family members stopping by for pie.
My grandparents lived in a palatial home, in my young mind. Four bedrooms, plus a couple more in the attic; a formal dining and living room, with an eat in kitchen and TV den; a pantry where magic was made; a four season porch, and a fireplace in the living room. It was an epic hide and go seek home, and we had aunts and uncles who jumped at the chance to play with us.
My grandmother is the best chef. She taught my dad, who decided to pursue a degree in culinary arts. Thanksgiving was a major production for her- but she always made it look so easy. From the turkey, cooked to perfection, which my grandfather carved with his special knife from the head of the table, down to multiple varieties of olives, to the vast assortment of pies, which were then brought out the next morning, for breakfast.
One of our family traditions which is cemented in many a family members memory, was a table cloth underneath the meal. Gram started a tradition of having everyone sign the tablecloth. There are many, many hilarious notes, baby footprints and signatures. I remember the year I was first able to write, I felt I finally belonged.
That tablecloth moved from that home, to my grandparents new one in 2002. With that move, my grandmother passed on the tradition of Thanksgiving to her eldest daughter, and grown family.
My family spent most of my childhood traveling West for Thanksgiving. We have continued the tradition over a few years of my son’s life. We have interspersed Thanksgiving at home, with my mother’s sister and family, the years we don’t go west.
Throughout the pandemic, we have been very conscious of the choices we make; especially with gathering with others. My family of three has stuck with our bubble of family, for a total of nine people. My mother, father, sister, husband, son, aunt, uncle, cousin and myself have all been masked and socially distanced, and acting responsibly. Following the science and health experts, and protecting ourselves.
About a week before Thanksgiving, we had a group discussion. I sensed that a cancelling of Thanksgiving was on the table, as I’d been following the news pretty close. Every cell in my body protested, and for once, the words came out of my mouth, instead of carrying them around, letting the frustration build.
“We can’t cancel. My family needs the normalcy of the holiday. We need family, love and joy. We’re wound so tight, he didn’t even get to trick or treat. We all need this. We aren’t doing anything outside of our home, haven’t even had a play date this month. We all need this, please?”
I was heard. My aunt proactively let all of us know all of the sanitizing steps she and her family were taking. My uncle and cousin aren’t working, so they are just as socially distanced as my son and I. My parents, aunt and sister all work in places who take sanitation seriously; and I know they personally take it a few steps further. My husband works outside independently, and masked, so his risk is low.
I still worried the dinner would be cancelled, up until we arrived at their home. It was a perfect holiday, spent with those we love.
My son immediately gravitated to the basement with his great uncle, for train time. They spent hours downstairs, building the ultimate train set. I’ve never seen my 8 year old so content, so focused, so mature. He was heard, and had someone working with him who shared his love of trains, he was over the moon. He only came up to eat dinner, and of course, for pie. He did not have one moment of meltdown which I’m aware of; which is unheard of. This boy is growing up so fast before our eyes- and Thanksgiving was a prime example.
I am so thankful that we were able to give him the most normal of holidays, with people who love him, and treat him as the little human he is. I was able to spend time conversing with my 23 year old cousin, who I’m usually too busy chasing my son to talk to. I am thankful for that time – as my cousin and I used to be real close when he was a child. I’m so thankful to be opening up our relationship again, and getting to know who he is as an adult. I’m so grateful that during such a horrific pandemic, we were able to safely gather with loved ones, to give thanks. We have so much to be thankful for, and none of us lost site of this, this year. My family holds my little nuclear family up, and helps in every way they can. I cannot thank them enough. My parents had my son sleepover the night before; and yes, I was thankful for the night off, but more thankful that my son was at Thanksgiving prep central. He was able to be a part of the great pie bake off, and was the official taste tester. What role is more important than that?
Hold your family close. Zoom with loved ones. This is the hardest year yet for many, but I have faith things should start to turn around. Remember why we are taking all these steps: to save lives, loved ones lives. Please wear a mask for others, as we are wearing them for you. Please realize this is for your family, your community, our country and the world. If we all do our small part to stay safe and healthy, hopefully we will be able to contain this virus. And this strange, separated holiday season will hopefully be the only one. Think of others, as they think of you and don a mask. Be kind, please.
Parenting Through the Pandemic 