Category Archives: Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving 2020, Fear Yet Feeling Fortunate

Thanksgiving was altered this year, of course.  For over 25 years, we have hosted Julie’s family, who arrived from 4 states.  Bedlam would rule from Wednesday through Saturday with every bed, couch, and floor occupied.  It was the right kind of bedlam.  

Being a physician, I have been able to keep up with COVID research, and months ago, I knew that the holidays would be a difficult time.  I concluded that we could not responsibly host Thanksgiving this year. In October, I sent out a family-wide email to announce that fact.  This action was sad for me and hard for Julie.  

During the pandemic, I have lived a sheltered life.  Not an isolated experience, but a sheltered one.  I interact with Julie and my at-home daughter Kathryn, I see my friend Tom, plus a few other friends, and I phone and email a couple others.  I don’t feel lonely. I have adjusted to my new life, and I accept it.

Three of my children have resided outside our home during recent months. Two were away at college, and my oldest daughter lives with her family in central Illinois. My own children became my stress. They would be spending the holiday with us, each of them a potential virus vector. I was worried about my health.  I had a genuine fear that they could bring a coronavirus interloper back to Naperville. The thought that I was afraid of my own children gave me a sense of shame.  I can’t ignore reality.  It was what it was.  

My kids have all been responsible.  Both of my college kids have carefully adhered to their school’s COVID guidelines.  My oldest daughter and her family have also been compliant.  All of their actions have been consistent with safety.  Intellectually, this was comforting, but thinking and feeling are sometimes unrelated in my brain. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, a day dedicated to giving thanks.  I am most thankful for those who I love.  How sad that COVID could turn them into objects of fear.  

Last Saturday, I picked up my daughter from her university, an 11-hour round trip.  Thankfully, the normalcy of seeing her calmed some of my fears.  By the time we returned home, my son had arrived from his school; his presence also quieted me.  My oldest daughter Anne came on Thanksgiving day.  She made a point to tell me that she had just tested her family as a precaution for her trip.

My friend Tom is making his family’s Thanksgiving turkey, but his mother-in-law won’t be attending. My sister, Nancy didn’t host her usual dinner, but her daughter Shari dropped off complete meals for her and my brother-in-law, Mike.  My sister Carol also stayed home alone, but several of her kids brought dinner and treats to her.  The virus may have halted get-togethers, but it can’t stop love.

Each of my kids has their favorite Thanksgiving dish, so I couldn’t simplify our meal. However, one thing did change this Thanksgiving, my children.  They have always been helpful kids, but this year they became helpful adults.  Dinner prep became a family affair. Kathryn made the Jello “salad” and the mashed potatoes.  Grace baked and helped with various tasks.  William made the green bean casserole and the corn casserole. My wife, Julie, made the sweet potatoes, and I took care of the turkey, stuffing, and gravy.  

By the time I heard my oldest daughter’s car pull up, I was genuinely excited to see her and her family.  They seemed equally happy to be spending the day with us. 

Thanksgiving was filled with laughter, conversation, and too much food.  After we cleaned up the dinner dishes, we went on a walk.  The weather was clear, and the temperature was crisp.  I marveled at some of our neighbor’s Christmas decorations but didn’t feel the least guilty of my more simplistic plans.  

Anne and her family left for home. The rest of us settled into another Thanksgiving tradition, the viewing of Jean Shepard’s “A Christmas Story.”  I have seen this movie so many times that I can recite the actor’s lines with authority.  

In many ways, Thanksgiving was business as usual.  In many other ways, it was completely different. That is what this virus does; it modifies normal. 

A month from now, it will be Christmas.  Another family holiday altered by the coronavirus. This year our cousin celebration is canceled. Also, my nephew, Tommy, won’t host his Christmas Eve party.  

We always travel to Julie’s family in Minnesota during Christmas week. However, the Minnesota Christmas party will likely be shelved.   COVID cases will certainly increase between Thanksgiving and Christmas, making such a get-together foolhardy.  

The year 2020 will be as notable as the year 1918.  In many ways, we have advanced in 100 years.  But in many more ways, we have not.  Just like then, politics overruled logic.  Just like then, we had to fear those who we most love.  Just like then, our lives were placed on hold.  However, just like then, we will eventually move forward.  Life will go on, Thanksgiving dinners will be held, Christmases will be celebrated.  Yet, I believe that parts of our lives will be permanently altered.  Not all of those changes will be negative.

Many have rediscovered the simple pleasures of reading a book, playing a board game, and conversing.  Personally, I have gotten into the rhythm of cooking dinner with my kids regularly.  I am comfortable being with myself.  I am grateful for routine pleasures.  

I am focused on simplicity rather than excess.  I relish a sudsy hot shower, a walk with my kids, a Netflix movie with Julie, a cup of coffee with my friend, Tom.  

At the same time, I am saddened that Violet, the campervan, has been more idle this year, and my personal goal to photograph rural towns has been placed on hold.  I accept these losses, but I do so with grudging awareness that my adventure years have a finite expiration date.

Life is what you make it.  I refuse to put my life on hold, waiting for things to return to normal. Today I choose to make the most of what I have, and I will focus on that fact rather than on my losses.  I accept myself, flaws, and all.  As I love those around me, I will also love myself. I choose to be thankful. 

Happy Thanksgiving, dear reader.

Mike

We always have freshly baked cinnamon roles on Thanksgiving morning.
Kathryn made the mashed potatoes.
I made the turkey, dressing, and gravy.
Mercury the cat was incognito as soon as our guests arrived.
Grace and Mercury on Thanksgiving morning.
The kids love playing games.
This was the first year that we all could fit around a single table!
A classic Midwestern Thanksgiving dinner.
Yep, heart attack on a plate.
What to have, pumpkin or pecan?
Why not both?
Sebastion and super-girl Diana.
A ZOOM call to far-flung relatives.
On our walk we spied this…

Traditions

We arrived home with our arms full of packages and were met by a blinking light on the answering machine. I pressed the play button and heard Julie’s mother’s voice. “We won’t be able to drive to Chicago for Thanksgiving; your father is lost in Siberia.” The answering machine clicked off. That was the total message. We stared at each other in disbelief. What did we hear? 

We decided to host Julie’s entire Minnesota family for Thanksgiving, and they would be staying at my house for several days. Although I kept a neat house, it was still the home of a bachelor, and I didn’t have many of the amenities that a traditional house would have. In the weeks approaching Thanksgiving I had been on a buying spree. I purchased new bath and dish towels, juice glasses, pot holders, a creamer, other kitchenware, bottles of shower gel and shampoo, new rugs for the bathrooms, and even a new rug for the kitchen. 

I spent an absolute fortune on food and bought everything from fresh Ho-Ka turkeys to a giant shrimp platter. Since they would be staying for several days, I made sure that I had enough food for multiple breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. 

I polished my house from stem to stern. My linen closet was full, and my refrigerator was beyond its capacity. But it was the Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, and the entire get-together had just been canceled by a one-sentence phone call. I was flooded with feelings. There was a relief knowing that I wouldn’t have to entertain a  large group for three days. There was concern over what I would do with all of the food that I bought. And, there was significant worry about Julie’s father, who was lost somewhere in Russia. He said that he was going to Siberia to sell leather coats, or was it computer hard drives this time? Bob always seemed to be going to very exotic places to sell things. He had worked in Army intelligence and then the CIA in his younger years, and we used to joke that he still was a covert spy. 

I was not yet aware of the understated way that Swedes communicate, and so I was utterly bewildered by Julies’ mom’s phone call, which appeared as casual as someone calling to say that they would be 15 minutes late. 

How could we know if Bob was safe? Could we trace his credit card activity? Should we call the State Department?  It was a national holiday, and it seemed like everything had shut down. We did what we could and prayed. Late Friday night, I received a fax from Julie’s dad saying that he was fine and had Thanksgiving dinner with the head of the Russian Orthodox Church. I imagine that all of this sounds slightly fantastic. Still, it is entirely accurate, and it was the start of over 25 years of hosting Julie’s family for Thanksgiving.

Her family would arrive on Wednesday night and leave on Saturday morning. Julie and I would share the overall workload. Still, I was in charge of the Thanksgiving meal, including the preparation of the turkey. Thanksgiving has always been a lot of work, but with repetition, it has become routine. Our menus are always the same. 

Thanksgiving Day 

Breakfast: 

Freshly baked cinnamon rolls, various other sweets, coffee, mandarin oranges, OJ, cereal. 

Dinner (2 PM): 

Turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, freshly baked rolls, corn casserole, jello salad, green bean casserole, cranberries, gravy, various add-ons, and pie. Julie’s mom usually brings a pecan pie, which we supplement with pumpkin pies and at least one other dessert. (Yes, it is a gut buster meal).

Supper: 

Sandwiches, salads, sweets.

Friday

Breakfast

Ham and Egg Strata (sort of a bready souffle), OJ, coffee, hot rolls, sweetbreads/coffee cake, oranges.

Lunch

Homemade cream of turkey soup (one of my specialties)

Sandwich fixings and dessert 

Dinner

Stuffed pasta shells, tossed salad, garlic bread, dessert.

Saturday

French toast, OJ, coffee, various cereals, various sweetbreads/coffee cakes.

Julie’s sister Amy kindly brings some of the desserts and we make the remaining ones.

Our Thanksgiving weekend is filled with lively conversation, football games on TV, card and board games, long walks, and lots of eating. Every year I look forward to her family’s arrival, and I immediately take a nap as soon as they leave. Hosting Thanksgiving has become a family tradition, but this is changing.

This year my two nieces celebrated Thanksgiving with their spouse’s families. My nephew stayed in London, and his dad (my brother-in-law) traveled there to be with his son. My daughter celebrated with her Peace Corp peers in Africa, and Karl’s brother Kurt spent the day with other relatives. This reduction in force eliminated some of our activities, like the giant Bunko game, but many of our usual pastimes continued. 

Amy, my sister-in-law, told Julie that next year, she would have her own Thanksgiving in Minnesota as she wants to maximize the holiday time with her far-flung children. It is likely that Julie’s 90-year-old parents will celebrate with Amy, as will the rest of the family. However, we will stay in Illinois as it allows us to spend the most time with our kids who are in college and beyond. Next year our 25-year tradition will end.

I do have sadness over this, but I also wonder what our new smaller gathering will bring. I imagine that we will still have a giant, gut-busting dinner. My kids all look forward to their favorite dishes. However, we will undoubtedly pare back on the other meals. We may fill the weekend with new activities. Perhaps a family trip to the movies, or a ride to downtown Chicago. 

Few things in life remain constant. Some traditions last longer than others but most eventually evolve or end. It is essential to respect tradition, but it is unhealthy to be a slave to it. A change can offer new experiences and new growth. We will always have the memories from past events.

In life, it is important to be flexible. We will try to use some of our old Thanksgiving traditions as a foundation for our new holiday weekend. Next Thanksgiving will be a new adventure.

Addendum: Julie read this post and wanted me to correct it noting that the changes for next year’s Thanksgiving are not written in stone and that our tradition could be continuing. I add this addendum at her wish and for completeness.

Making sure that the turkey is 165 F.
One of two tables set for Thanksgiving.
Joining hands to give thanks.
I’m in charge of making the Thanksgiving dinner.
Food served buffet style.