For most of us, Thanksgiving morning started like any other day. There was no school or work, so pajamas were the dress of the morning as we lazed around without anything to do… that is, except Jennifer.
Meal planning and preparations that had been her focus for the past week were in the final stages. The details of each step in the process were filling her head. The turkey was in the oven with a mental reminder to baste it regularly. The pumpkin pie with the cream cheese topping had been baked the day before along with the dinner rolls. The mince meat pie had been left off this year’s menu as being a little too much since it was just the four of us to feed.
All the foods tradition dictated were underway: cranberries simmered on the stove, potatoes peeled for mashing, stuffing roasting inside the turkey. Yams would follow, Brussels sprouts waited their turn, giblets simmered for gravy. The china was out, silver polished, and special dishes for cranberries, pickles, and olives stood ready. The china had been brought out but was waiting for the other dinner table decorations to be arranged. The silverware was polished. The specialty dishes for cranberries, pickles and olives were ready for use.
Since Jennifer has been the main planner and implementer of our Thanksgiving meal, I admit that the list above does not begin to illustrate the amount of work she had invested into this one, annual meal. I say this because in this particular year, the fact that I and the kids were too wrapped up with our issues, to recognize the amount of time and energy Jennifer had invested to create a perfect celebration of Thanksgiving – perfect in every detail with a focus on making sure every traditional element was dutifully and deliciously prepared.
When we were called to the table with her announcement “dinner is ready”, we plopped into our seats as a distracted husband and two self-absorb teenagers are prone to do. We glanced around the table to make sure all the mandatory dishes were in place. Luckily, there were no comments such as “where are the green beans? We always have green beans.”
I say “luckily” because we were clueless about how unvested Jennifer was in the success of this meal. Fatigue had taken its toll, and anything but a glowing review would have shattered her countenance.
However, it did not take long before we were reminded of our selfishness and self-absorption. In fact, it was probably less than five minutes. As I remember it, by the time all the food was on the table and Jennifer was finally able to sit relax, the kids and I were already done filling our mouths and were getting up to go back to the important things we had set aside… such as a football game….
What would your reaction be if you were Jennifer in this tale? That’s right. An explosion of memorable proportions.
We were suddenly brought back into reality of what Thanksgiving is supposed to be… a time of gratitude, remembrance and, most of all appreciation of family.
Now, as part of our Thanksgiving tradition, this tale is retold and remembered.