Give thanks ...

It's Thanksgiving morning ... and I am drinking coffee.

There is no turkey in the oven ... there is no pan of cornbread dressing on the counter ... started last night ... waiting to be stirred a time or two more this morning ... before being slipped into the oven.

There's no collection of ingredients on the counter ... to be assembled into sides .. and there was no refrigerator shuffle & juggle last nite .. to make room for all of the good food ... to be offered up today.

Somehow it doesn't feel special ... you know .. it doesn't feel like ... Thanksgiving.

There will be an abundance of food later ... when I arrive at my brother's house ...  I will add my two simple dishes to the smorgasbord ... and call it a day.

Sipping my coffee ... I am reminiscing ... about dressing ... from the past.  Because you see, for me, the dressing has always been the centerpiece of the Thanksgiving meal.

As a child, we always went to Mimi's for Thanksgiving.  It was Gee's home, too, of course ... and he always had plenty of outdoor puttering around for us to do. He always made us feel like we were helping him in some tremendous way ... with whatever task was at hand.

Hindsight tells me, his task was to keep the children out of the kitchen ... and out from underfoot.

Every dish was carefully prepared ... dishes washed as she went along ... so that at the end ... there were only the plates & serving pieces to wash up ... to put away.
Dishwashing was always a part of the day.

The table was always beautifully decorated.  A special centerpiece ... exquisitely designed placemats ... napkin rings ...  good china ... and the polished silver that reverently
came out only on holidays.

I really don't remember much about the menus ... just that there was always plenty of dressing ... and pumpkin pie.

I've never cared much for pumpkin pie ...

Mimi's dressing was always yummy. Her's was a simple recipe with mostly just moist cornbread and a few other ingredients added for consistency ... perfect when smothered in rich turkey gravy.

Thanksgiving at Mimi's.  It was our tradition.  There was never any question about where we would be ... on the day of giving thanks.  Every single Thanksgiving memory ... with Mimi ... is tinged with warmth & acceptance.

Mimi loved us so well.

And some Thanksgivings we would venture out to Aunt Julia's later in the afternoon.  Not every year ... but enough years to have the childhood memories.

Smack dab in the middle of her party is where I always tried to be as an adult ... after Mimi was gone.

Aunt Julia loved me well, too.

Aunt Julia's was always a mayhem of friends, family & hospitality.  There was enough food to feed 12 armies.  And it was chaos everywhere!  There were two refrigerators jammed full of stuff she had been preparing for days ... maybe even weeks.  And whenever you opened the door of one, you were likely to discover ... one more dish ... that had been overlooked earlier.

All of the food would be ready by noon.  Some would be put out in serving dishes .... others were simply ladled up from the pots on the stove .. and Tom ... he was carved continuously from his resting place on the pulled-out rack of the oven.

It was pretty much an open house type of affair ... with people coming & going .. fixing a plate ... sitting down to eat with whoever was sitting down to eat at the same time.   Eat early ... eat often ... it has always been my idea of perfect holiday gatherings ... casual & cozy ...
without all of the fanfare.

Don't get me wrong.  Aunt Julia had good china ... and we used it.  She loved china ... and had several patterns ... and due to the parade of people who would grace her feast throughout the day ... often there were as many as 2 or 3 sets of beautiful china called into action .. gracing the table. Even with the continuous dishwashing.

She had gorgeous silver, too.  It was kept in a hand-carved chest with legs .. that was ornate and beautiful as well.  The REAL silverware was always used whenever there was a gathering ... because there were enough pieces to keep pace with even her most ambitious guest-count.

And more importantly, she loved to use it ... any ole time ... not just for special occasions.  Truth is, she would say it WAS a special occasion anytime her loved ones were there.

I am not sure how many items were on her holiday buffet ... it was heapings of goodness.  Fried eggplant patties, deviled eggs, Abbie's pea salad, turnips, cranberry sauce ... and the list would go on and on ... always including a pot of purple hull peas.

I don't think there was ever a time that I visited Aunt Julia's that there wasn't a pot of peas on the stove. It was her signature sign of hospitality.  Peas on the stove ... Jim Beam on the counter.

As far as dressing goes ... Aunt Julia's takes the cake. Pun intended.

A couple of days in the making ... no real recipe ... just a list of basic ingredients ... added to ... stirred ... seasoned ... and soaked .. then baked off just before serving.

The making of the dressing ... the time involved .. the attention to taste ...  and texture ... and the good company of ole Jim Beam ... is a holiday tradition all on it's own.

I remember the first time that Aunt Julia allowed any of us to help with the preparations. It was just a few years ago ... even though it feels like a lifetime.  My cousin & I were grown ... accomplished cooks in our own right ... jostling for favor.

Aunt Julia asked Abbie Anne to stir the dressing.  She's never let me forget that.  You see, she's sure that means she was Aunt Julia's favorite .. and it's ok with me ... for her to think that.

She's still my favorite cousin ... even after the dressing-stirring incident!

At Aunt Julia's there was always enough love to go around.

There was always one whole table of desserts.  Seasonal pumpkin pies.  Mincemeat pies.  Not sure if those were especially for my dad ... they were, however, his favorite.  My Aunt Merthyne would always bustle in with her signature cherry pies.

And pecan pies.  Several of them. 

In the last years,  Aunt Julia always made a pecan pie ... just for me ... my very own ... because I loved them so much.  When we cleaned out her two 6' chest freezers for the very last time ... there was a homemade pecan pie ... wrapped and frozen ... clearly marked ... "MJ" ...

A  pecan pie in the waiting ... for me ...proof positive ... that actually it was ME ... that was her favorite!

I miss those Thanksgivings.  At Mimi's.  At Aunt Julia's.  Because Thanksgiving was never really about the food ... it was about family ... and friends ... and love.  And no matter where I was living ... I always made a special effort ... to try to find my way ... to one of their ... homes ... for the holidays.

In the off years ... I always tried to make my home ... feel that same way ... to all who gathered there.

Maybe that's why I enjoy the cooking of the Thanksgiving meal ... so much.  It's one of my very favorite things to do.  I love planning the menu ... preparing  for days & days ... sharing the warmth of my home ... my hospitality ... myself ... with those I love.

It's been a good many years ... since I've had the pleasure ... the privilege ... of having a Thanksgiving meal at my house. Or any other special holiday gathering.

A couple of years ago, I chose to spend the day at the home of a friend who is like family ... and we cooked in his beautiful kitchen.  It came close ... but was not really the same ...

Because in the end ... all we had was a whole bunch of good food ... and random people.

And I was reminded ... again .. that Thanksgiving isn't really ... about the food.

Another cup of coffee ... and a little more pondering ... ruminating ... on the things for which I am thankful.  And they are many.

These years that my heart has spent in the wilderness ... have been lonely ... and healing.  And, yes, I am thankful that Jessi & I have had "places" to go ... for holiday meals.   I have allowed myself to be lulled into believeing that it really didn't make much sense for me to do all of that cooking ... since I don't have a family ... of my own ... anymore.  

It just doesn't feel like Thanksgiving ... without the smell of the turkey filling the house ... without breakfast casserole and mimosas ... without a counter full of ingredients ready to be turned into something wonderful ... without the stirring of the dressing ...

There's no one to blame ... but me.  For that feeling of emptiness ... in my heart.  I know it's because I have lost my sense of  ... home.

Jessi still bundles under her blanket ... and watches the Macy's parade.  It's one of the things we still share every year.  It's special to her.  She's special to me.

She loves me.  And together, we are a family.  The blessing of Jessi overwhelms me at times.

And each year, I have stubbornly made the dressing ... just like Aunt Julia's ... because it's my favorite ... and somehow it seemed important.

This year, I decided not to make the dressing.

Come to find out, no one who will be gathering with me today ... really likes it .. the way I do.    Everyone has their preference.   So I figured why bother ... if it's really ...only for me.

Not making the dressing ... has proven to be a BIG mistake.

So here I sit ... waiting for the parade to begin ... Jessi's singing along with some country music ... about love, luck and life ... it's feeling like it's just another day.

Sure there will be a nice meal ... and I am thankful that I have a place to go ... with people who are in my family.  That is a blessing for sure.

Somehow it's more about the food, though ... making sure no has to do too much ... about the doing it because it's what we're supposed to do ...

Every effort will be made to find some of the magic ... of Thanksgiving's past ... and who knows ... maybe this year will be the year that the magic ... shows up ... once again. 

We will talk about Christmas ... who's going to cook what ... the when & where of rattle gifts ... setting our sights on the next holiday ... which shifts the focus from just the food ...
to the presents ...

And again, I wonder ... when did it happen?!?  How have we found ourselves hiding behind the routineness ... the food ... the expectedness of the gathering ... the rigorous ritual of mandatory gift giving ... rather than the simple joy of giving thanks ... and the thanks in the giving?

Thanksgiving ... Christmas ... than a fresh start in the New Year ... somehow I will muster up the enthusiasm to face this holiday season ... unless the Mayans are right ... and then none of it really matters anyway.

Next year, though ... 2013 ... it's going to be the year I take my holidays back.

Most likely it's been a necessary part of the healing-of-MJ process ... to set aside it all aside ... for a while.  So that the empty holes in my heart weren't so obvious .. and there was chance for it to find restoration ... to be made whole again.

Enough, I say.  I want my holidays to feel like holidays ... celebrations of life & love .. friends & family.  No more coasting ... and simply getting by ... I am ready ... for my life to be full & overflowing with gratitude ... joy .. love.

I want to feel Mimi in the details ... I want to find Aunt Julia in the midst of my chaos.  I want to hear my father's laughter ... as he wanders through ... telling his funny stories ... gobble gobble gobble.

I want to share my traditions ... create new memories ... open the door of my heart to those who are important to me ... to bless others ... with the wonder of ... plenty of love to go around. I want my whole heart back.  I want to live life ... fully alive!

And I want awesome dressing ... and pecan pie.

Thanksgiving ... it's a day to honor God ... to thank Him for His blessings ... and His grace.  Humbly, I am learning to receive both ... neither of which  I deserve ... from Him.

Today I am thankful ... for blessings unseen ... that are already on their way.

Give thanks with a grateful heart ...
give thanks to the Holy One ...

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(c) November 2012