It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas. But once again, I ask – What happened to poor Thanksgiving? The pilgrims need a voice, without some animated spokesperson I fear it doesn’t have a chance. No one really wants an inflated fleet of three small ships in their yard (ie the Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria in case you forgot your second grade history). Or perhaps a friendly pilgrim couple waving by the drive is not what you had in mind.
But, alas come to think of it, Thanksgiving has taken on its own identity, or should I say got lost in it. It has become the biggest shopping eve day of the year. And, for the first time, even here in the south (where you still cannot buy batteries for your camera on Sunday), some stores will open on Thanksgiving Day to jump start the big day. Thank goodness Macys still has their Thanksgiving Day parade.
What happened to the days of Norman Rockwell’s Thanksgiving day dinner, where we can gather our dysfunctional families around the dining room table (for those of us who still have dining rooms) and share those special moments – ooh a scary thought. In our case, it will be a case of avoiding those “sticky subjects” one best not to bring up or throw them in the conversation just to stir up more than the giblet gravy.
My favorite part is the ride home when we can be catty. “Can you believe what she wore?” “Did you hear how much they paid for their house. So that’s where the inheritance went?” “Well, it’s kind of obvious she hasn’t kicked her little “habit”, she couldn’t answer a question I asked her in a complete sentence.”
But even though, as with many, our family puts the “fun” in dysfunctional, we are lucky in that we still gather on Thanksgiving day with our combined families and share a wonderful meal. Even our youngest daughter will join us. That is unless she follows through on one of her many threats not to.