Thanks... And All That Other Stuff(ing)

Turkey. A parade. Football, football and more football. Families-- nuclear and extended. And an obscene amount of food... that someone is always stressed out about making... that leads to more, more, and more... left-overs. A peek into American excess, all at one, happy (or millions, I suppose)... table.

Now, don't get me wrong-- I like Thanksgiving as much as the next person. Except I don't really like turkey, I'm not a fan of football and, I pretty much despise left-overs. I do love the season, though... from October through Christmas, it's my favorite time of year. I love the leaves and the way the air smells... the colors and the decorations; and everything the season seems to represent... family and traditions... even if it's centered around an obscene amount of food.

When my British boyfriend asked me about my American Thanksgiving, I actually had to pause to try to remember the lessons of my elementary school education (which I'm now questioning the quality of due to the next bit that will be revealed). Hmmmm... something about early colonists giving thanks for a good harvest after an unexpected blizzard? Thanks after an averted massacre by the local population? Thanks after some sort of bug killed all the crops and the Native Americans brought food for the neighbors who would later kill them all off, but for one happy meal, they sat around the table in harmony, giving thanks? Sad, yes, I realize. But it made me think-- am I the only one who doesn't actually remember why we're giving thanks? I know it has more to do with the food... seriously. I know there's more than food.

Thanks (haha) to handy-dandy Wikipedia, I was able to quickly study-up on the "true" account of this annual American ritual (I could digress into the whole history being in the hands of the teller, but I'll save that for another post; in any case, it sort of does have to do with food). And reaching back to my pricey college education, and more specifically, Anthro 101 (whoohoo-- I knew I'd get something out of that class), I was able to recall a lesson about rituals and traditions-- and how they become integral to the fabric of culture. But it also made me think of how little meaning this ritual has when you're removed from your traditions-- the ones that are engrained as part of your fabric.

This is the 15th Thanksgiving that I've spent away from my family. I can hardly believe it. I went to college when I was 17, and while I've certainly had wonderful Thanksgivings since, there's still nothing quite like the Thanksgiving you've grown up with. My sister underscored this fact just today-- that she's hosting Thanksgiving for her in-laws in Hawaii again this year, despite the enormous amount of work it takes to execute this fantastic meal, because she wants to have "Mom's Thanksgiving." Sure, the food's the same: turkey, mashed potatoes, candied yams, stuffing and cranberry sauce. Of course, there's also the pies... all pumpkin, all the time at my house. And despite the nearly-identical menus, there's something uniquely-- well, unique, about each family's traditions. At my house, it was the homemade pies the night before-- there's nothing like my mom's pie crust; the ritual of waking up to the smell of turkey; my mom spending the day in the kitchen to make an amazing meal (and all the yummy appetizers that she made sure to ply us with to keep us silent)... the girls helping (somewhat), but our main job to set the table with Puna's (my mom's mom-- Hawaiian for grandmother) china and silver-- lovingly laid out for Thanksgiving, Christmas and the very special occasions in between.

Even though my parents have come to Chicago in recent years to spend Thanksgiving with me... my mom slaving away in the kitchen as per usual (while I've gotten pretty good with the sides, I still haven't been brave enough to tackle the main dish), and we've had Thanksgiving for three, it's never been quite the same as the Thanksgiving of my childhood, made lovingly and expressly for five. All this to say, that while the inevitable is here-- we're firmly established as adults, my friends, and we begin to create new traditions, there's always a time to pause and give a nod to the foundation of these traditions. And most importantly, give thanks to Mom.