Thanksgiving: ‘No gifts, no hassle, just lots of love.’
By Abigail Geiger
It’s easy to become overwhelmed during Thanksgiving when half your family is Southern. Everyone seems to be talking at the same time.
Yet, knowing your family is full of emotive talkers isn’t something you realize when you’re a kid. The only thing you’re focused on are the marshmallows on the sweet potato dish. It takes a lot of time to arrive at the humble conclusion that, in the heat of the mashed potato moment, your family probably won’t even hear your solution to all the world’s problems (and you probably won’t hear theirs).
In 2010, my family set up for Thanksgiving on our new black Ikea table in our new (and tiny) Arlington, Va. apartment. We’d just moved from Florida, where, for my whole life, I sat at the Thanksgiving kids’ table and never saw snow on Christmas.
I was about to make another move to a journalism school in Missouri, a state where I thought there were only cows and corn. (I quickly learned there is, in fact, a lot more in Missouri.)
You never realize how quickly your life is changing until you have your “first” something (and really, not until years after that “first” moment ends).
That year hit many firsts for us. It was our family’s first year back in the mid-Atlantic region. The first year we lived in an apartment. The first year we left Florida, the only place I truly knew.
It marked the start of new, separate lives for my family and me — ones that would catapult us at different points to California, Colorado, Maryland, Massachusetts, Missouri, Montana, New York, Pennsylvania and Virginia.
Now, my family miraculously lives in the same region. Will that change? Probably. But for now, we can thank karma — and cranberry sauce — for bringing us back together each year.
So, what do you say? Hold back on the tinsel for a bit and share your favorite Thanksgiving stories. Here are a few.
Terrence Downs
“We moved from Parkway Homes to a new home in Codorus Homes off College Avenue over Thanksgiving Day in 1971. With the move, we did not have a turkey dinner as usual, opting for a spaghetti meal for ease in the relocation process.
“Some kids came to our door at dinner hour to welcome us to the neighborhood and said, ‘You people must really be poor. All you can afford is spaghetti.’”
Downs’ dad laughed; it made the whole move worthwhile for him.
“They returned the Sunday after Thanksgiving and turkey was served,” Downs said. “After that, the kids thought it was a big deal that we had a turkey dinner on a Sunday.”
Crystal Ganong
Ganong’s favorite Thanksgiving memory was her daughter’s first Thanksgiving. Because the baby was born a micro preemie — a baby born weighing less than one pound, 12 ounces or born before 26 weeks — Ganong was unsure she’d see a Thanksgiving dinner.
“Thankfully, at nine months old, we were able to celebrate together,” Ganong said.
“The three of us (my husband, daughter and I) were living in a tiny one-bedroom apartment with a kitchen you could barely turn around in and a card table set up in the living room as our dining table.
“Nevertheless, I spent all day cooking turkey, all the fixings and fresh apple pie. We had a wonderful meal and it was the first ‘real’ food (i.e. non-baby food) my daughter had!”
Mary Homsher
“Last year, my son was having open-heart surgery in Atlanta where he lives,” Homsher said. “I asked him what I could do to help.
“He said, ‘Make me a Thanksgiving dinner, with all the trimmings.’ I think we all love Thanksgiving. No gifts, no hassle, just lots of love.”
Homsher made the huge meal for her son and split it up into TV dinner-size portions.
“I stayed for three weeks and he told me each time he got down he heated one of them up,” Homsher said. “He knows how to make his momma smile.”
Sally Hess Keys
“It was Thanksgiving 2013,” Keys said. “We moved to Manchester in August. My dad had died years ago and Mom was now in a nursing home. My siblings in the Bloomsburg area all had in-laws to spend the holiday with.”
That year, it turned out to be just Keys and her husband alone in their new house for a meal on their own.
“It was tough, but I’m so glad we had each other to spend the day together.”
Rami Norris
“The week before Thanksgiving in 1977, my mom told me we didn’t have enough money to buy a turkey,” Norris said. “I worked at Hill’s department store at the time, and they held a drawing for employees to win a turkey.
“I was one of the winners. The best part was when a coworker walked by and said, ‘Those who have, get!’
“I will never forget that.”
Your story
Do you have a Thanksgiving “first” story? Reminisce with us. Send us your stories on Facebook, Twitter, or email them to ageiger@ydr.com.
